RSVP II: The Two Powers
by Riplakish
Summary: A year after Graduation, Ron is a widower trying to raise his baby sister and figure out his destiny. A transformed Kim lurks in the shadows with a dark agenda of her own. Rating: "T" for the most part with some "M" (but not MA) portions.
1. On Your Marks

**Required Disclaimer:**_The author of (this) fan fiction does not, in any way, profit from the story and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). – from the Wikipedia Fan Fiction Disclaimer (generic boilerplate)_

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><p><strong>Chapter One – On Your Marks…<strong>

Kim Possible ducked as another plasma bolt sizzled through the space her head had occupied just a few seconds before.

"Hold still, damn you!" the long-haired villainess snarled.

"Really?" the twenty-year-old former cheerleader queried as she swept her opponent's leg. "All sorts of opportunities to do the obligatory banter, even snark about my hair, or taunt me about my long absence…and the best you can do is whine because I won't just hold still and _let_ you win?" She bounced away as concrete floor of the lair's basement was scorched by an orange plasma burst.

"Just one shot!" the woman in the cat-suit roared. "Just one good shot and you're toast!" She followed up with a half-dozen bad shots as her target emulated a stainless steel bearing on a pinball table.

"I was gone for the better part of a year," Kim continued, executing a hand-stand and turning it into an inverse split, "and this so-called Mastermind gathered the largest gang of super-villains ever assembled. So where's the world domination?" She cart wheeled away from a succession of fiery projectiles. "Where's the evil empire? I don't even see your ex-boss—or you, for that matter—on any wanted posters."

"We were getting around to it!" the older woman growled. "Phase One: Eliminate Team Possible; Phase Two: Take over the world!"

Kim flipped over the next barrage and noted that the plasma bursts were smaller now and coming farther apart. "And yet, here I am."

"_Team_ Possible, Kimzilla. The plan was to eliminate _both_ of you."

Kim was all lined up for her kill shot, springing off of a mound of rubble and flying down at her opponent with a forceful axe-kick. She faltered as she processed the last sentence and only succeeded in grazing her target's cheek. "You—you took down _Ron_? Is that why—"

"Relax, Sweetcheeks; your boyfriend is alive and kicking," the villainess cooed. "Aw! Wondering why he hasn't come looking for you?" She laughed nastily and flung another wad of orangey flames at the former redhead. "Last I heard, he'd not only moved on, but had collected himself a regular harem in the process! I'll bet Shego's chasing him all over town right now!"

**RSVP**

Shego had been chasing him for two miles, now.

Bad enough.

Worse: the sun was only now peeking over the horizon! She was not a morning person.

And it was galling that this—this—_kid_—was making her look…_old!_

But the absolute worst thing about this embarrassing debacle was that she really didn't have to do it at all!

According to him.

She caught up to him at a pedestrian crosswalk where he was waiting for the light to change.

"S-st-stop-able," she wheezed, bending down to grab her knees and re-inflate her oxygen-starved lungs.

"Go home," he said kindly. "I'm paying you to be my Chief of Security, not my personal bodyguard."

"At least," she wheezed, "let me book…the Global…Justice…indoor…track. More secure," she said as she imagined keeping a secure eye on her employer from a more restful vantage in the bleachers.

"No."

She grabbed his arm as the light changed to keep him from jogging off again. "Why?"

"Running round and round in circles? Well, technically, ovals: _bor-ing_!"

"It rained…yesterday…"

"Wasn't that great?"

She was on the verge of a non-verbal answer that involved lighting up her hands when he continued: "Fresh air, an occasional cool-down shower, communing with nature—"

"Communing…with traffic…" she grumbled.

"Shego, I'm not training for a sports competition. There's added value in adapting to the changing terrains and surfaces as I go from sidewalk to street to empty lot to cutting across the Upperton campus. If I have to run toward a threat—"

"Or…_away_…from it."

"—I'm better adapted thanks to the changeable obstacle course out here than some climate-controlled ovoid with a flat, even, non-skid surface," he continued, ignoring her jibe. "I can take care of myself. And I'd feel better if your formidable skills were being used to keep my little sister safe."

"Kyoko Yoshiko…is more than qualified…to play nanny and bodyguard…for Ninja Toddler—she was covert…Global Justice…agent for God—" Ron shot her a sudden look. "—gosh sakes!" Shego finished smoothly. "As long as…they're in The Bunker…there's no need for…special precautions..."

"The 'bunker,' as you so picturesquely call it, is a long way from being finished as is the rest of the building," he said, watching for the crosswalk signal to cycle around again. "Besides, you're going to hurt yourself if you try to keep up with me."

The light changed and he was off and running before she could come up with a comeback. Shego ran across the street but stopped as she realized that he was already a block away and her side felt like it had more "stitches" than the Frankenstein monster. She turned back toward the warehouse and pulled out her GJ communicator.

"How's it coming?" Dr. Director asked her a moment later. "Have you learned anything new?"

"Just that he's even more annoying…since he stopped being The Buffoon…" Shego wheezed.

**RSVP**

Dr. Director clicked off her cell phone and looked up at the GJ Medical team from behind her desk. "I'm sorry. You were saying?"

"Well, as our tests have previously established that Dr. Anne Possible, her niece Jocelyn Possible, and you Madame Director, have been—well, for want of a better term—biologically adjusted in age to a shared median."

"In other words," she said, "all three of us are roughly the same age."

"I wouldn't say 'roughly,' Ma'am. Genetic deep scans all the way down to the measurable lengths of your telomeres indicate that your biological—even genetic—ages are identical!"

Betty steepled her fingers under her chin. "So we're all approximately twenty-five years old?"

"Calendar age is different than biological age," the doctor clarified. "One twenty-five year-old woman may differ greatly from another twenty-five year-old woman, even if they share the same birthday. Aside from the fact that each of you differ in terms of your mental age—assuming that you have retained the knowledge, memories, and cognitive experiences from those years that have been physically erased—"

"I have," she interrupted emphatically.

"Yes…well…given Dr. Possible's mental—"

"Back on point, Doctor," she warned.

"Well, as I was saying…I can't speak to the issue of either of the Possibles matching up to a precise generic calendar date that would coincide with biological norms: there is no generic maturation scale—no 'one size' fits all."

"But?" she prodded.

"The three of you are biologically and genetically identical in terms of the physical _genetic_ markers of aging. The telomeres in your cells, for example, are identical in measurable lengths."

"I'm not sure I understand," the head of Global Justice said. "I have been physically regressed, by my best estimations, to the body I had back when I was twenty-five. Anne and Joss Possible would seem to have been—ah—biologically adjusted to the same age. You say that our ages are now identical yet you say that biological age differs in different people so there is no conforming standard on the calendar."

"Well, yes. And you and the Possibles may still vary in terms of what Dr. Possible was when she was twenty-_uh_-five and what her niece would be, were she to age normally to her twenty-fifth year. As opposed to your own estimates of returning to your twenty-fifth year…"

"Still not getting your point, Doc."

"Each of you—advanced or returned—to the normative for each of your twenty-fifth year of existence—would not share the exact same markers on the biological or genetic levels."

"And?" she arched an eyebrow.

"And yet you _do_. It is as if you were all matched to a single, optimal template for your biological and genetic clocks AND matched to a single standard and setting. While you are all still different, physically and, for the most part, genetically—your age markers are identical in ways that should be statistically impossible!"

Dr. Elizabeth Director sighed and rubbed her temples. What the specialists were saying in so many words…

_S__o. Many. Words_.

…was that whatever had caused Joss to age and Dr. Possible and Betty to de-age, had matched them up to a precise, shared, biological bookmark that counted as "25" on the human calendar. The fact that it was taking them so long to circle the point suggested that they knew next to nothing else.

"Are we stuck?" she asked.

"What?"

"Are we aging forward from this point? At the normal rate? Faster? Slower? Frozen in time? Are we moving backward—de-aging?"

"I-I don't know," he admitted. "Only time—if you'll pardon the expression—will tell."

"What about more tests?"

He shook his head. "Some—er—_time_—will need to pass before the next round of tests in order to allow for some kind of measurable progress. It would be helpful if we knew what circumstances the three of you shared or what unusual factors may have come into play…" The entire medical team looked at her expectantly.

_Oh no_, she thought, looking back at them with her best poker face, _there's no way I'm discussing Mystical Monkey Powers or a fragment from a stone idol called the Tempus Simia. I'm on thin enough ice as it is…_

**RSVP**

"Awww," Kim mock-sympathized as a few squirts of yellow lights fell off of her adversary's protective gloves, "plasma generators all empty? Guess you'll have to finish me with your hand-to-hand skills. Ohhhh!" She smacked herself in the forehead with her hand. "That's right! You don't have any real combat skills!"

The blonde in the red and black cat suit peered at the moodulator chip, now embedded even deeper in Kim Possible's forehead. It still flashed red and black. "Do that again!" she half-taunted, half-hoped. _Maybe she would change the setting again. Or knock it loose, please God!_

"What? Hit myself in the head? I guess that would only be fair since the only glove that's gonna get laid on me is my own!"

Adrena Lynn circled without taking her eyes off of her old nemesis. "Don't know about that, little girl, but I don't plan on hitting you in the head. I'll only aim for your _vital_ spots!"

"Oh, ha ha. I always wondered what had happened to you since I whipped your ass in that amusement park over four years ago and I guess the answer is not much: you weren't _amusing_ then, and you're _not_ amusing now."

"I don't have to be amusing," the former teen stunt girl retorted, as long as I have the last—" Instead of finishing the sentence with the word "laugh," she launched herself at Kim hoping to catch her off guard.

Kim didn't appear to move out of the way but, suddenly, she wasn't there anymore. Adrena Lynn went sailing through the space she had occupied just seconds before and stumbled over more rubble from the blast that had killed Mastermind a few days earlier. When she staggered about to look behind her, Kim was standing in the same place she had occupied when the blonde had started her move.

Only she was four inches tall.

"What? Where? How?" she stuttered, staring at the former redhead as she grew back up to her former height.

"It's my staff!" Aviarius wailed from the sidelines, "The little bitch has part of my shattered gemstone!"

Kim grinned evilly and lifted the bottom of her shirt. There, nestled in the whorled recesses of her belly button, were the glittering facets of a multi-colored crystal. "Guess you could say," she taunted, "wherever _I_ go…_Mego!_" And then she laughed a truly un-Kim-like laugh. More than one of the villains in the room shivered as they saw a look on their nemesis' face that they could have never imagined in their darkest nightmares. The laugh and the grin were bad enough. The blacker than black hair with just a few streaks of scarlet transformed the package into something truly disturbing for those whose image of teen hero Kim Possible had always been the ideal of youthful innocence.

More than a few of them had been conscious enough to hear what she had said about Ron Stoppable as she emerged from the shattered Attitudinator.

And—with the exception of the dead-blonde-walking wearing the now spent plasma generators—no one wanted to make her any angrier than she already was.

And Kimberly Ann Possible was very, very angry—thanks to a massive misunderstanding and a hideously overloaded moodulator chip.

Shego might have made comparisons to Zorpox and been somewhat _anxious_...

...but Tara and the other former cheerleaders would have been truly _frightened_: with the removal of all moral restraints, Kim was finally channeling her inner Bonnie…

**RSVP**

"…Rockwaller? What are you doing here?" Monique plopped down on a chair across from her and leaned her crutches on a neighboring chair.

Bonnie looked up from the stack of contracts she was vetting while seated at one of the new tables that had just been delivered. The rest were out in the truck, parked on the back lot and couldn't be unloaded until more of the interior space was finished. Even with triple crews working around the clock, that would take another week, at least.

"I'm going over some of these contracts and order forms that Stoppable has already signed off on," she answered with a frown. "Someone needs to tell him that asking me to look over his paperwork _after_ he finalizes it, is like closing the barn door after the horse gets out."

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"He's never around when I drop by."

"He's probably out for his morning run," Monique said. "He should be back within the hour."

Bonnie shook her head and closed her briefcase. "My first class starts in another thirty minutes. I won't have any free time until after six, tonight. And that's when I need to hit the campus library and work on my paper. The boy needs a real lawyer for business advice, not a pre-law student who's still taking Economics, PolySci, and Business Accounting."

Monique shrugged. "Baby Boy has his own way of doing things. And I have to point out that he seems to be doing well, these days."

"Is he?" the former Queen B of Middleton High asked. "Some weird shit has gone down this past year. First the Lowardian Invasion—did you know I'd forgotten all about Ron throwing those giant aliens halfway across the city? It's still all over the internet and those cell phone videos on YouTube. But I didn't remember any of it until I was looking something up this morning and…there it was! It was like something had messed with my memories of the past year!" She saw the look on the black girl's face. "Oh my god! You too?"

Monique nodded slowly. "I kind of thought it was related to my being shot. But, girl, there's more to it than that. Kim and Ron both disappearing last summer. Ron turns up recently but Kim's still MIA. And now Wade Load is missing from the hospital, as well!"

"Lots of people missing," Bonnie agreed. "Liz and Jessica disappeared about the same time as the explosion and fire that killed Ron's parents and Kim's dad and brothers. No one ever found a trace of their bodies among the ashes. And that kid in the wheelchair—I hear his mother and girlfriend disappeared with him as well."

Monique leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. "And then there's the whole time-travel sitch with Kim's mother. _And_ her cousin. _Don't_ tell me that _that's_ a coincidence. Still, the weirdest thing is that I'm living here with him—"

Bonnie's eyes widened. "You're living with Stoppable?"

"No. Of course not!" She looked momentarily flustered. "I mean, I was crashing here, in this empty warehouse. Crystal's dad is the realtor and she got me the keys so I could be close to campus while I got back on my feet—economically, that is. Then I get shot at that party—"

"Not exactly a party, Mon. It was a _seudat havra'a, _the first meal for Ron's shivah."

"Yeah, well, everyone was there—even two Kim Possibles!"

"Neither of which was the real Kim."

"Thank goodness! I'd hate to think that the real Kim shot both Wade and me—and almost killed Ron! What?"

Bonnie had reached across the table and was gripping Monique's arm. "Another thing I had forgotten about until just now! What _else _have I forgotten?"

"Well, I'm still trying to remember how _I_ got here."

"You just said you were crashing here, thanks to Crystal and her dad, until you could get on your feet."

"Well, yeah. But, all of a sudden, Baby Boy owns the place, is remodeling it, top to bottom, and has plans for a restaurant and a mini-mall. More to the point, he's putting in upstairs apartments and has told me that he's setting me up with my own store in the mini-mall! He's financing me as a business partner and letting me stay here, rent-free!"

Bonnie smiled but it felt forced. "Maybe he's got the hots for you."

She shook her head and almost looked…_disappointed?_ "I don't get that vibe off of him."

"Take it from somebody who knows a lot about men, honey. Guys don't do things for girls except they expect something in return."

"Yeah? So tell me, B: what did Ron want in return for going to rescue your sisters when they were kidnapped?"

"I-I don't know." She frowned. "But he's paying me good money to look over his books and contracts when he could pay a professional to do a better job in half the time and, thereby, actually save money in the process."

"And?"

"I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"You just can't believe he's helping you out financially because he's a nice guy?"

"Nice enough to take his time," Rockwaller scoffed. "I figure he's got to be majorly horny with Possible out of the picture for so long."

Monique stared back at her with an expression of disbelief. "And if that were true, you think he's biding his time to put the moves on the one girl who treated him like dirt all through high school?"

Bonnie shrugged with extravagant nonchalance. "Some guys dig the 'tude. There are some very successful men who pay dominatrices a great deal of money to humiliate them in private."

"As opposed to getting it from you for free in public?"

"I'm just saying he was Possible's lapdog for all those years. He's probably looking for someone to fill those shoes and I've got a pair of stiletto, slingbacks…"

"So," Monique pounced, "you _are_ interested!"

"Ewwww, no! Just saying, it's inevitable. No man can resist these!" Bonnie cupped her legendary breasts suggestively.

Miffed, Monique grabbed her own considerable bosom and shot back: "Well, what about these?"

"Morning ladies," Dr. Vivian Porter's voice announced cheerily as she passed by on her way to the espresso machine. "Is Ron around?" She stopped and took in the—er—face-off. "Oh, is it Breast Cancer Awareness Month already? I never trust those self-exams, myself; I should probably make an appointment…"

**RSVP**

Kim pulled the plasma generators off of Adrena Lynn's limp wrists and slid them onto her own. Giving the unconscious blonde one last kick, she turned and glared at the nervous group of villains who had once sworn their allegiance to Mastermind.

"Anyone else?" she asked coldly. "Or are you ready to get down to business?"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Well, it's the start of another marathon and what better way to start things off with the old instructions to runners for generations: "On your marks…"<strong>

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><p><strong>Author'sNotes:**

_**For any new readers (or old readers who have been away for awhile), The Two Powers is "Part Two" of the "RSVP Saga." While I've tried to work the story for those who haven't read "Part One," I do recommend that you read the previous work, "RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron"—though clever and careful readers may be able to pick up enough back story from the narrative in The Two Powers.**_

_**If you're having any difficulty in finding **_**RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron**_**, go to my Profile Page for the link. **_

**_And here's a little oddity I've recently discovered: some readers are able to post a second review to the chapters that I have previously taken down and reposted. Don't go crazy, now…_**

_**Riplakish13**_

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><p><strong>ORIGINAL REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 1<strong>

_**A little history: I originally posted the first few chapters of this story as separate from Part One, then went back and folded them back into the original (RSVP I), scrapping the plan to split the story up. Rather than lose the reviews that were posted for the chapters at that point, I copied them to the end of the chapters as I didn't want them to just disappear after the readers had made the effort. So, you'll see some older reviews at the end of this and the next several chapters as well as any new reviews that get posted to the regular reviews section—even though I've reverted to the original plan of posting Part Two separately again. I hope that doesn't confuse things too much…**_

_Grin-Grin_  
>2011-10-05 . chapter 1<p>

yes...

yes...

very good,

my Minion

MHUAHAHAHAHAHAHA

**_Dude, you're scaring me! (And when you say "Minion" are you referring to those little creatures from Despicable Me that look like tator tots? ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Dragonblaze66<em>  
>2011-10-05 . chapter 1<p>

update soon!

**_We aims to please! And the more reviews, the faster I work! Thanks! R~13_**

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><p><em>Pavelius<em>  
>2011-10-06 . chapter 1<p>

hmmm?.. i thought you would be on hiatus?... not that i am complaining, just confused...

Anyway... good to read the sequel and i am wondering... who will be Gollum?

Keep it up

Pavel

**_You're right_**_, _**Pavelius**_;_**_ I _****am****_ supposed to be on hiatus. I'm just weak. I need to find the inner strength to put this on hold and get my other stuff done, first. As to the role of Gollum? Gil's just too easy. Ron Reager has the eyes for it. But maybe Bonnie's personality… R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73<em>  
>2011-10-07 . chapter 1<p>

Ron's tipped the balance of 'the Force' with his last wish and may just cause some really wild mystical/hormonal/mental explosion here. He seems to be making the same mistakes someone would make with a bottled genie in order to push away something he never wants to face again.

It could be costly.

Now Kim's the embodiment of all those things that were done to her previously, but that chip may be the undoing of the grip on her mind here. If it could be safely brought down, she may just live to see Ron and not have him killed.

**_Astute analysis here, CB. I don't know about bringing Kim down carefully, though: handling un-chipped redheads is dangerous enough. And, yeah, Mama Lipsky, while more competent than most of the other Team Possible villains, still falls victim to the overly complicated villainous plot syndrome. And maybe a little of the Kim Factor, too. R~13_**

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><p><em>JayNine<em>  
>2011-12-03 . chapter 1<p>

As first chapters for a lengthy (or at least, 'shaping up to be lengthy') 'fic go, this hits the ground running full speed, in addition to being absolutely hilarious.

Best line of the chapter has to be this gem of Vivian's near the end:

"Oh, is it Breast Cancer Awareness Month already?"

Fan-tastic! :D

Keep up the great work!

**_It's always a challenge to write the opening chapter of a sequel: introducing the new readers to the story without boring the old readers—thanks for the big thumbs-up! R~13_**

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><p><strong>NEW REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 1<strong>

_CajunBear73 3/6/12 . chapter 1_

Ya know, it must run in the family...The coming up with this great master plan, with all the bells and whistles of buildup, execution and so forth and the follow through of all this going to hell just because what was created wasn't going to be controlled by the creators... Yeah, it runs in the Lipsky family.

Now the ladies are really scrambling to see why they're so 'attracted' to so last year memories of Ron.

CB73

**_Whew! For a moment I thought you were talking about my master plan going to hell instead of Mastermind's… ;-) R~13 _**

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><p><em>Pavelius 36/12 . chapter 1_

Ah... it feels good to be able to review normally ...

Anyway... i am missing the giant eye thats watching over Mordor... err... wrong plot...

So Ron is training for his face-off with Mastermind, the flying seat of Mastermind is getting occupied by someone new (we all know who) and the ladies are trying to remember ...

My concern is Yori (i will stick to her till the end!)... has she forgotten Ron too?

And some humor like at the end is surley refreshing...

Keep it up

Pavel

**_You do know that the original plan was for her to die in the tsunami back in Chapter Six of RSVP Part I: The Fellowship of the Ron, right? (Curse you meddling readers—always interfering with my beautiful plans…) Well, as to whether your devotion to Yori will pay off? Only time will tell, my friend… R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 37/12 . chapter 1_

Oh where do I start...it's going to be fun playing with someone's brain...LOL

So little Kimmie has outlived Master Mind...nah she croaked too easy, however Kim ya done good with the blonde, I preferred heal stomps though.

Good to see the girls are finally getting over Ron and he is getting over them...I mean there could have been some real mayhem going on if all that kept going.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

**_Ah, if it could only be that easy. Ron will learn, just like Mastermind, that nothing ever unfolds the way that you want it to. R~13_**

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><p><em>Batamut 320/12 . chapter 1_

Ron is such a prude :p or repressing as his libido is acting out (does he know that denying base insticts make them come out in different ways, which is different than acknoldging it exists but not acting on it.)

Good story tastefully done

**_Yeah, the headshrinkers could have a real field day with our Ronnie. And as you know, the harder and deeper you repress something… R~13_**

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><p><em>Mr. Aanonymous 930/12 . chapter 1_

question: i havent read everything yet but are there any lemons in this fic? and if so which chapters and with who? also you up for a challenge?

**_Lemons? Yes. With who? It's complicated. You'll just have to keep reading to find out. And then read some more…because it gets more and more complicated. As for challenges? This hairy bugger of a multi-part tale occupies too much of my free time for the moment. And I suspect that, once I'm done—I may really be done here. We shall see… R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 829/13 . chapter 1 _

Kim is a bad ass bitch!

**_Oh yes. R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 1 . 113/14_

I'm back ...so kim can't fight the moodulator even though she fought a Super charged one in the show...yes you have forced me to do homework I'm in the 4th season already. .

_**Well, she's not only fighting a Moodulator chip (black market version) but there was an Attitudinator and the Anubis Pendant in the mix, as well.**_

love the story glad for some light hearted stuff also hope I made to the polls this time around rongo votes

_**Rongo is clearly a front-runner in the polls! And in my heart…wait! Did I say that last part out loud? Drat! R~13**_

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><p><em>BartWLewis chapter 1 . 726/14 _

Oh shnap...things are getting interesting.

I can't wait to see how the lasies react when they find out that Ron wiped their memories of him.

_**Ron did what? (Shakes head) If that really happened, then why don't I remember that...? R~13**_

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><p><em>Laserai chapter 1 . 728/14_

Well, so it looks like through what could best be described by an accident on the job, Kim has now not only joined the darkside but intends to wreck shop as its leader. Interesting. Its a possibility I never thought could be possible but you arrayed the elements for the setup quite nicely. In the meantime, the girls are starting to draw their own conclusions about Ron and it appears they may fall for him all over again. Except this time, it will be of their own choice which will definitely put the screws to his overall solo act plans.

_**Well, as I tried to warn everyone in Part I, Mastermind was only the warm-up act for a more dangerous super-villain. But Ron's biggest challenge may lie closer to home. R~13**_

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 22 . 929/2014_

Great chapter. Very nice scenes with Shego. Keep up the good work.

_**Thanks! More Shego goodness to come! R~13**___

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><p><em>PyroNagus chapter 1 . 1018/14_

Sorry for not picking up on the story earlier. It's soooooooo long and confusing that I need a considerable amount of energy to merely click the story title. (I don't skim when it comes to stuff like this so ya...)

Anyways, wow...wow...wow. That scene with Kim. was. amazingly. outrageously. outstandingly. CHEESY... ahh *rubs the bridge of his nose* really Kim?... "wherever I go...Mego" *sigh* coming up with lame smack-talk is Drakken's job. Git yer head in da game, guuurl.

_**Well, she's adjusting to her evil reprogramming. Takes time, ya know?**_

Wonder what happened with the missing characters... ya know, I'm talking about Wade, Jim and Tim, what's-her-face-that-rescued-them (don't remember her name, too lazy to check). If i were to be guessing I'd say they are teaming up and working under the radar until the time when their reappearance makes a big impact on the story (Maybe when the bad guys are winning and their help is last-minute-crucial or something like that). For now popping their heads doesn't make much of a difference. For the time being everyone is on the edge of their seats because of the alien assassin...

_**They'll be "popping up" eventually. One of the story's elements of "Mystery." But you're right. Something...crucial...**_

Oooh, I was really meaning to ask you why the hell you thought the story is supposed to be categorised as romance/adventure. Don't cha know mystery readers are waiting for a good one out there. Maybe that's why your story doesn't get good ratings. Js

_**Hmmmmm...or maybe I should just set it back to something generic: don't want to filter the searches too much. Suggestions, dear readers?**_

Anyway nice job, keep 'em coming, even though you've jumpy with the update button recently. CX  
>I know, I know... you've been re-re-editing and re-posting old chapters. I haven't been living under a rock or anything...<p>

_**But at least there's a bunch o' chapters already posted ahead of you so you don't have to wait! R~13**_


	2. Get Set

**Authors / Notes: **_**A little more recap from RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron in this chapter. If you haven't read part one, you'll enjoy RSVP II a lot more if you go back and read part one, first. Go to my Profile Page for the link if you have trouble finding it.**_

_**And here's a little oddity I've recently discovered: some readers are able to post a second review to the chapters that I have previously taken down and reposted. Don't go crazy, now…**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ If you've read all of my disclaimers for _RSVP: The Fellowship of the Ron_—there's no reason to believe that my authorial rights have changed in any way. Kim Possible and all things created by Lord Disney are the handiwork of his dominion. I make no claims to ownership or copyright: this is a not-for-"prophet" fan-fiction and it hath no place in the Kim Possible Dimension Prime nor any part of the Disneyverse. Amen._

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><p><strong>Chapter Two – Get Set…<strong>

The old warehouse, just a couple of blocks away from the Upperton Campus, had undergone major renovations just a few years before. A tech company had upgraded the wiring and plumbing, replaced the whole physical plant with state of the art HVAC and IT ports and wiring and built in a veritable warren of offices, conference rooms, and storage spaces in the west wing going up three stories. The east wing remained open and cavernous, waiting for the machinery and inventory that would never come.

They were just weeks away from installing staff and manufacturing equipment when the company went bankrupt. The real estate bubble burst shortly thereafter and building sat empty for several years until chance put a young black woman inside, thanks to her friendship with the realtor's daughter. Her misfortune in being wounded by a stray bullet turned to her good fortune when Ron Stoppable, stopping by to bring her some personal effects for her hospital stay, saw potentials and possibilities in the big empty building.

So he bought it.

He could afford it, thanks to his father's wise investment of his ongoing Naco royalties, plus his inheritance from his parents' deaths, and the insurance settlements. Plus, in the current economy and real estate market, he was able to pick up the building for a veritable song. And, thanks to the recent, rehab work, converting the offices into apartments and living quarters was coming along faster and cheaper than expected.

Which was good because other parts of the warehouse were undergoing some less conventional and more expensive rehabbing than might be expected of a restaurant, mini-mall and apartment complex.

Yoshiko Kyoko had her suspicions. She had been GJ operative for five years—four of them undercover at Nakasumi Industries. She knew her way around warehouses and factories and there were construction irregularities going on in the basement and on the supposedly non-existent fourth floor that didn't jibe with any of the public plans and blueprints.

She hadn't discussed any of this with Dr. Director. At times it felt as if she were under some kind of "compulsion" to avoid the topic…

But the "real" reason it hadn't come up was that Global Justice was in a bit of disarray following the disappearances of Kim Possible and several other Middleton residents with ties to her. Then came the appearance of a new super-villain. The assaults on or murders of various members of the Possible and Stoppable families, Global Justice agents and even suspects in Global Justice custody made the Director vulnerable to the kinds of inter-agency sniping and conflicts that were underway now. And then there was the encounter with the shard of the Tempus Simia that had resulted in the bizarre transformations of the director as well as Anne and Joss Possible.

It was no wonder that Betty had had little time to debrief her.

And, after all, her current assignment was primarily: One, guard Ron Stoppable and his sister Hana and Two, observe and report anything unusual related to either.

Well, as to number two...where would she begin?

Should she talk about the toddler who could walk up walls and run, upside-down, around the ceiling? Or about her big brother whose brown eyes sometimes flashed blue like an old Crystal Gale song and who tended to float a good foot off of the ground while meditating in the lotus position?

Yoshi walked about their temporary quarters, straightening up and deciding what could go into the moving boxes right now and what would be needed for a few days more. As she worked her way through the main room she came across a dog-eared paperback book that she had noticed Ron reading late into the previous night.

Picking it up, she examined the title on the spine: _Essays_ by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Sitting down in the chair that he had occupied last night after he put his little sister to bed, she opened the worn and well-handled pages, turning to the place marked with a spray of pressed flowers. With a start, she realized that the odd mix of still-colorful blossoms were familiar to her. Here was a delicate spiral of pink and white blossoms, a member of the orchid family called _Nejibana_ or "twisting flower." The gaijin called them "Ladies'-tresses." The scarlet-orange _Komakusa _and pinkish-purple _Hakusan-fuuro_ were layered over a spray of delicate white _Hakusan-ichige_. They were alpine flowers, found high in the mountains of her native Japan.

There was something in his file…a marriage… Yoshi's eyes widened: _she had read his file, yet it was as if she had forgotten some of the most salient facts about the young man she was assigned to observe and protect._

He was a widower. His wife, a Japanese national named Yori, had perished in the tsunami following the great quake a couple of months back. _No wonder he brooded late at night when he thought he was unobserved…_

She lifted the pressed flowers from the page and gently laid them aside as she skimmed the previous couple of pages.

Her employer, it seemed, was studying Emerson's Fourth Essay on "Self Reliance." He had marked several sentences and she read them now, committing them to memory for later analysis.

_Whoso would be a man, must be a nonconformist…_

_And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same transcendent destiny; and not pinched in a corner, not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but redeemers and benefactors, pious aspirants to be noble clay under the Almighty effort let us advance on Chaos and the Dark…_

_My life should be unique; it should be an alms, a battle, a conquest, a medicine..._

In the margin, penned in his own handwriting, was the phrase: "Never be normal!"

And then she saw the passage that was double-underlined and slightly blurred by the circular ripples of two, unmistakable tear stains: _It is only as a man puts off from himself all external support and stands alone that I see him to be strong and to prevail. He is weaker by every recruit to his banner…_

Her own sudden tears dimmed the final sentence and she had to wipe at her eyes to see it clearly:_Is not a man better than a town?_

Yoshi carefully replaced the flowers between the pages he had marked and rose on unsteady feet. The words echoed over and over in her mind and in her heart...

_Is not a man better than a town?_

_Who was this young man and what else had been edited out of her now untrustworthy memory?_

It was a mystery that she could no longer resist.

**RSVP**

Jocelyn Possible watched her aunt as she slowly worked her way around the circumference of the opaque force field that now enveloped her former home.

It was positively freaky to see Dr. Anne Possible, noted neuro-surgeon and mature mother of three, in the body of a twenty-five year-old. In her "mission" clothes—cargos and crop-top black pullover—she was…well…hot! Even on the cusp of forty, she had always kept herself in shape; eight to twelve hour surgeries required a lot of stamina. And Joss had heard how her aunt had once been a cheerleader and a gymnast back in her college days. There had even been an attempt to recruit her for the Olympic Team but her pregnancy with Kim had derailed that.

Her stomach, now, was flat as a board and beginning to show some definition from the seemingly endless crunches she performed as a part of her daily exercise regimen. Joss ran her hand across her own bared midriff and noted that she could stand to work her own core a little more.

The barely pubescent teen had morphed into a more voluptuous version of the Possible template, with a bust and hips that allowed her to be a little soft around the middle. She wasn't pudgy by any normal standards but she lacked the delicate shading of muscles that separated the athletic from the genetically lucky. Maybe she should start running with Ron Stoppable on his morning jogs…

The problem was her schedule.

Although she currently possessed the _physical_ attributes of a college graduate, she had only completed her sophomore year of high school. Ron had arranged for a tutor so that she could continue her education without the awk-weird-ness of sitting in a high school classroom with a bunch of sixteen year-olds. But baby-sitting her aunt and studying didn't leave her much time and energy for anything else.

The hardest part of this whole sitch was her aunt's breakdown. Bad enough that she was almost killed by a rogue ninja assassin and sustained nerve damage in her hand that had effectively ended her surgical career. But then the Stoppable home had exploded and burned to the ground, along with her husband and sons as well as Ron's parents. All of that on top of Kim disappearing last year had been too much and her mind had somehow decided that the world needed "Kim Possible" more than "Anne Possible."

Anne Possible now believed that she was Kimberly "Ann" Possible!

The GJ psychiatrist had said that it was a harmless—maybe even healthy—defense mechanism, given all that she had been through. He had strongly urged all of them to humor her until such time as she was better able to process her grief.

Well, that had been hard, at first, but two things were making it easier, now.

First, Ron had talked her into letting everyone call her "Ann" as befitting her new status as an adult and a probationary agent for Global Justice. Believing that she was Kimberly _Ann_ Possible made this name change relatively easy for her to agree to. It made it easier for everyone else to call her by her real name—_Anne_—and reduce the amount of confusion all around.

The second problem was the freakier issue: Kim's mom, believing that she _was_ Kim, had been crushing pretty hard on poor Ron since her little break down and it had been awkweird, to say the least!

Fortunately, she had stopped crushing ever since Ron got back from that mission to rescue Bonnie's sisters.

Joss frowned as she thought back. Funny thing: some of the details of that mission were still fuzzy in her own mind. She could recall parts of the mission with crystal clarity…but anything having to do with Ron Stoppable seemed fuzzy or down right elusive.

_What was up with that?_

As someone who had just been majorly whammied with mystical, transformative energies, she was suddenly suspicious of the fact that her mind seemed to have been tampered with.

But if your mind has been tampered with, how do you trust it to recognize the truth when you go looking for it?

And who do you talk to when mystical powers may have been involved?

Maybe she should _start_ with Ron Stoppable…

**RSVP**

Ron Stoppable was meditating in an empty broom closet.

It was the only place in the building where he could escape the scrutiny of his friends and the work crews that swarmed through the building like busy ants in an overturned mound.

As he assumed the lotus position in the dark closet and sought to regulate his breathing, it seemed as if he could already feel a mystic presence that was not of this world.

Not of this world and very impatient!

_Rufus, buddy!_ he greeted the ball of flickering light as it appeared inside his deeper consciousness.

This was not the naked mole rat that had been Ron's beloved pet and companion until he was brutally murdered by the Synthokim last year.

At least, not exactly…

When Ron was very young he had enjoyed the companionship of an imaginary friend named Rufus. Years later, when he adopted the baby rodent, he had named it Rufus, subconsciously channeling his fond memories of that special bond he had enjoyed when he was a child.

Only recently had Sensei revealed that his imaginary friend wasn't so imaginary but a spirit totem or animal guide.

According to Sensei, it was extraordinary that Ron had been able to commune directly with this presence at such a young age. Even more amazing, it had bonded, in part, with his pet, giving the tiny animal a portion of its essence. This enabled it to talk after a fashion and behave as a higher being on many occasions.

**Ronald Dean Stoppable**, the ball of light answered, **you must rescind your commands of forgetfulness!**

_Wow_, Ron responded, _no "hello," no "how are you," just cut right to the chase with no social pleasantries whatsoever._

**You have invoked impossible alterations to fabric of perceptual reality. Something has to give. In fact, some things already are.**

Ron instantly grew serious. _Aw man—how bad?_

**It depends on your definitions, at this point. No irrevocable harm has been done, yet.**

_That's good._

**I said "yet." The situation is starting to unravel on a number of fronts. The instability will continue to grow.**

He sighed. _Alright, lay it on me._

**By using your Mystical Monkey Power to "wish" that those who thought that they were in love with you would "forget" you, you created three points of instability. **

**First, given the videos of your heroics against the Lowardians on the worldwide web—and I stress the "worldwide"—you were already the object of obsession for hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of crushing fans. Your sphere of influence could only be extended so far and those at the periphery and beyond continue to leach from the area of effect so that even those closest to you are in an area of MMP imbalance that fades in its effect on a daily basis.**

**Second, by trying to generically edit the emotional memories of others, you create an imbalance in their cognitive history. As they become aware of the irregularities in their recall of certain events tied to you, they begin to question and focus on the gaps which will unleash the suppressed memories over time. Recovered memories will accumulate. As too how much and how quickly? The variables for each individual are incalculable at this point.**

**Finally, even if those past memories and emotions were to remain inaccessible, time moves forward and what developed once may redevelop as a matter of propinquity. In other words, even suppressing the aspect of your MMP that was stimulating their libidos in the past, you may find that certain feelings may emerge anew over time.**

_You mean if they dug the Ron-man once, they might start digging him again._

It was a ball of pulsing light and yet there was the distinct impression of eyes being rolled. **Crudely and obnoxiously put but…yes.**

_So how do I fix this? Is there some way to re-suppress those memories or feelings as they start coming out, again?_

**Ronald, even if you possessed ten times, a hundred times, the powers that you have now—even if it were possible to do what you imagine in a permanent sense—it would place your feet on the path to villainy. Even now you have been tainted a little by this last wish.**

_I was only trying to spare people's feelings._

**Especially your own. But you can't abrogate other's rights, their own emotional and spiritual agency by exercising power over their thoughts and emotions. Remember the moodulator chip?**

Ron thought for a moment. _Yeah, Shego was all villainous back then but what Dr. D did to her just wasn't right!_

**Not just Shego, Ronald, but Kim Possible, as well.**

_Kim Possible? That's Dr. Possible's daughter, right? The Synthodrone that tried to kill me was made to look like her for some reason._

**See, Ronald, your own memories have been edited as well. You knew Kim Possible **_**well and yet you can hardly remember her, now.**_

_So, somebody edited my memories, as well?_

**That's right. How do you feel about that?**

He pondered for a moment. _I don't like it._

**Well, booyah.**

_Aw man, that's just wrong._

**I won't say booyah if you stop calling yourself the Ron-man.**

_Deal._

**So, you don't like having your own memories rearranged?**

_Yeah, point taken. I'll stay out of the amnesia business from now on. So how do I undo it?_

**On yourself or the others?**

_The others, first._

**A natural decay has already set in. Let the process unfold without any further interference. You may, however, have to do some explaining as some people begin to recover certain thoughts and feelings.**

_Oboy..._

"**Oh boy" is too right. As I was saying the specific parameters were too general and the area of effect too wide to be sustainable on an ongoing basis. It should decay naturally as long as you don't try to alter it any further.**

_So, my memories will return as well._

**Probably not.**

_What? Why not?_

**Because you were the only target. Because the memories that were erased were of an entire person and not just a subset of feelings related to a larger memory matrix. And because—unlike the ladies who were the targets of your recent attempt to reorganize their thoughts—you actually want to forget what you've forgotten.**

_So, who did this to me?_

**You did.**

_Huh? Why?_

**Because you thought that it would be too painful to remember.**

_And…was it?_

**I will not lie to you: you have been through a difficult year, Ron Stoppable.**

_I lost Rufus—you know, the other Rufus? And I lost Yori. I-I lost my parents. Could anything be more painful than those things?_

**Apparently so.**

_Then I don't _want_ to remember._

**Ronald. There are different kinds of pain. Sometimes feeling **_**nothing**_** is far worse than feeling anything or everything else. Your wish was granted in the belief that a short respite might help you through the worst of it. But it was only meant to be temporary. In blotting out all feelings and most memories of the most important person in your life, you are doing yourself and your potential for joy and peace a much greater harm.**

_And, yet, it doesn't feel that way._

**Doesn't it? Are you happy?**

_Rufus, I lost my wife and my unborn daughter. I lost my parents. And someone is trying to kill me! I think that gives me a pass on being happy right now. And I certainly think it suggests that another bad memory is one I can ill afford right now._

**But—**

The closet door flew open.

"Roofis!" Hana burbled and clapped her hands. "Hidy-seek!"

**RSVP**

Captain Shaula Lesath examined her appearance as fed back to her on the view screen of her scoutcraft. Her hair was still long and "blonde" however, it was now shaded toward a pale gold rather than the pure white that was its normal color. Her normally sky blue skin was now a pale hue approximating the epidermal appearance of the Earthers who inhabited the planetary region known as Scandinavia.

After a couple of brief, unsatisfactory infiltrations of the target's domain, she had decided to try a "visible" insertion. Invisibility was, by no means, foolproof and you had to keep your distance from anything living or mobile lest it suddenly move in your direction.

_And that tiny Earther with the almond-shaped eyes—his…sister—kept staring at her as if she could see through the Uptopian agent's cloaking!_

Although her mission dossier was next to useless regarding the target's history—_Ron, if she was attempting a visible insertion, she would have to start using his name_—she had picked up on the fact that he had enemies. Given those circumstances, the tar—_Ron—_would be more wary if approached by an unfamiliar face. Yet, she couldn't very well take on the appearance of someone he knew well. Anyone he had more than a passing acquaintance with would be very difficult to impersonate.

A quick brain-scan during the large party a couple of weeks back, had yielded a number of memory images that she had painstakingly matched to a database of known friends and acquaintances. None of them, of course, could be used for her purposes.

Then, finally, one faint image cleared the database and had seemed to be perfect.

It was a brief encounter with a young, Earther female who was attractive by both Earther and Uptopian standards as well as being the same approximate age as the—Ron Stoppable. The memory was a relatively recent, yet surprisingly "dim" one so Captain Lesath could assume her appearance with little danger of arousing Ron's suspicions. The fact that the memory was in the "near-present"—though surprisingly buried in his subconscious—meant that she would not appear to be a total stranger when they next crossed paths.

In the memory, the Earther female never spoke or identified herself, making the subterfuge more likely to work. And the encounter was very brief, in a dining hall of some kind while Ron Stoppable was engaged in some sort of Skype session with a friend. It had apparently taken place during Ron Stoppable's brief visit to Norway a couple of years back. The memories from that trip were extremely fragmentary and practically non-existent for such a relatively recent period in his life—almost as if they had never really taken place—but that may have been due to their recovery from a "quick-scan" from the far end of a catwalk.

In any event, Captain Lesath worked on perfecting her disguise and creating a plausible backstory to give her better access to the focus of her mission.

**RSVP**

"This is so wrong!" Jim Possible exclaimed as he watched a much younger version of his mother work her way around the force field that encircled their home.

Tim Possible angled the monitor for a better view. "If we could only talk to her!" he moaned.

"Well, you can't!" Justine Flanner snapped as she swapped out the I.V. on the stand beside Wade Load's bed. "Not if you want to ruin the one chance we have to stay alive and fix some of this!

"But it just kills me—" Jim said.

"—to see her like this," Tim finished.

"Her best chance—everyone's best chance—is for you two to get back to work," the girl genius ordered. "Your mother is in good hands. Now you can either continue working on the interface for the pan-dimensional vortex inducer or you can finish hacking into the security cameras for Mastermind's lair. But, if either of you lowers that force field prematurely, you'll practically guarantee your status as orphans in the near future!"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: What comes after "On your marks…" Yep.<strong>

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><p><strong>AuthorsNotes 2: **

**_Again, just a reminder that this is a continuation of the storyline begun in RSVP: The Fellowship of the Ron. While I'm trying to write this so that the new readers won't be totally lost, you ought to consider reading the previous story if you find that you start having questions._**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 2<strong>

**Old Format Reviews:**

_CajunBear73  
>2011-10-07 . chapter 2<em>

Ron's up for a serious butt-whoopin' when this memory block he set on the ladies wears off.

But he really should take some simple advice that he may have heard of: 'What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger.'

Or those who are after him will make sure the former takes place before the latter can take hold from his previous pain.

And then Kim may just completely come unglued when she does kill him.

The world will be so much worse off after that. Mastermind's plan be damned.

CB73

**_I see that you're coming to see how Mastermind was possibly a minor annoyance compared to what's coming down the pike next… R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow<br>2011-10-15 . chapter 2_

nice mate nice. is ron gonig to work on some of the more mytsaical aspects of his powers, come on where then floaty glowy ball and astral projection

**_You'll see more mystical powers at play in the coming chapters but Ron's MMP is going to continue to make his life more complicated rather than simpler—until somebody else throws a switch! R~13_**

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><p><strong>New Format Reviews:<strong>

_CajunBear73 3/6/12 . chapter 2_

I think Ron's going to find he's stronger than the damage inflicted on him.

If he'd just remember...

CB73

**_As for him being stronger than the damage inflicted on him, see next comment… R~13_**

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 36/12 . chapter 2_

Ron has definitely changed, but I didn't even really mean OOC for show/high school Ron, but from what he was. Ron didn't really feel like Ron at all during the commune section. I find it hard to picture Ron willfully making such a drastic decision that would affect so many people close to him without their consent. And sparing his own feelings makes sense when he's affecting himself, but drastically less so when affecting everyone around him. Basically, I share Rufus's opinion from this chapter. His speech also seemed...off, not as "Ron" as most of your writing. However, he seems to be back to normal since then, which is definitely a good thing. I hope that wasn't too meandering for you to follow, but I wanted to do my best to clarify as to what exactly I felt made him OOC in forty-one.

Personally, in addition to the general memory recovery (which really can't come soon enough imo), I'd like to see what's happening to Electronique. I was interested in the plotline of her being helped by Ron plus Shego, disappointed that she got captured right afterward (although it was obviously necessary plot-wise), and hope to see that path explored soon.

More of a fan every chapter,

-Avof

**_Again, thanks for the question/analysis of Ron in that particular scene. I can say that there are some factors affecting Ron and his responses and I can also say that Ron-in-meditation-mode is both more focused and yet a little more weirded out by the whole out-of-the-body communing with the big ole ball of light. But perhaps the core of the issue is that it is hard to maintain a consistent tone of voice for Ron as he makes the journey from high school froob to maturing orphan/widower with growing responsibilities. It's a juggling act and I'm apt to drop a ball (or chainsaw) now and then. _**

**_I do think that Ron hasn't seen anything being harmful in trying to erase the memory of the ladies' unseemly interest in him. Ron's whole life experience up until this last year has been one of virtual invisibility. No one remembers his name. Girls don't show him any interest (or if they do, he's so used to their disregard that he can't see it—like Tara. Or Yori, for the longest time.) So, all this…"attention" has kind of knocked him for a loop. And as he has come to understand that his MMP is probably stimulating this interest in him, he sees the wish of forgetfulness as a way to correct this mistake without bothering or embarrassing anyone. Especially since the interest couldn't really be genuine, could it?_**

**_Of course, our Ronnie is still a bit naïve when it comes to other women and he's been very badly hurt in the past and is still in mourning so I think he can be forgiven for trying to do the right thing, as he sees it. Though I think some will not be so forgiving at first._**

**_As for Ron getting his memory of Kim back? As I've said, he's been really really hurt. Synthokim in Chapter One of "RSVP: The Fellowship of the Ron," was really really brutal. Never mind writing it, every time I read that chapter with the scenes of Synthokim and SynthoRon, I want to take a shower. It was strong, it was creepy, it was stomach churning. I hated having that in the first chapter of the series—something bound to drive off readers before they even gave the story a chance—but I had to have something take place that was so terrible, so mind-numbing and heart-crushing, that you could believe that Ron's and Kim's lifelong bond could be broken in such a way as to keep them apart for months and be believable in spite of their history and friendship._**

**_Given that—and all of the heartbreak that Ron has endured since—I think its believable that he's terrified of the one memory that he took such steps to bury. If the memories that he has chosen to keep are so sad and terrible, what must that one memory that he fears more than any other be like. I agree with CajunBear that Ron is strong enough to face it, but Ron doesn't think so, yet._**

**_At least not consciously. Unconsciously, she's starting to creep back in: he's been seeing things and hearing things that remind him of Kim even though he hasn't connected the dots, yet. It's like a small child watching a scary movie: he covers his eyes but after a bit begins to take little peeks through his fingers._**

**_As for Electronique? L'il Sparky will return in a bit—those chapters were previously posted and will return after a quick run through the editor. R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 37/12 . chapter 2_

Awwww man Ron's gotta give back the memory thingie? Crud. So the spirit guide Rufus is trying to get Ron to quite messing with peoples' heads including his own... Come on Rip that was half the fun.

So Justine now has Jim and Tim along with Wade...hummmm I wonder where the 'rents are...

And I still don't believe that weird assed master mind who swiped Felix's chair is down for the count...I mean if so then she/he is a pretty pathetic villain.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

**_Half the fun? By my estimates I still have two-thirds the fun waiting in the wings. But we shall see. The 'rents? Didn't they disappear when their house exploded? And Mastermind was pathetic—just like all of the villains in the KPverse. R~13_**

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><p><em>R. Howard Lawrence 721/13 . chapter 2_

I appreciate you trying to perfect your work but I was reading chapter 35 and expected 36 not a rewrite of 1 & 2

**_Sorry, man: As I've posted back when I took things down for another edit/rewrite, I'd reached a point where I was getting into the weeds and needed to revisit the whole work before I could go forward or I risked losing my way. _**

**_Leaving everything up while I work on it is more confusing for me and it robs the few readers who want to keep track of the rewrite process of knowing where the progress is really at. Those who don't want to go back and read again only have to wait until I get caught up to where I left off. _**

**_Either way, everyone would have to wait until I got caught up again for the new material but I can see how the update notification would surprise (and disappoint) you if you hadn't seen my postings (in the first chapters of RSVP I & II) when I took the rest of the chapters down. Sorry. I'm working as best as I can to get to 36 & beyond as soon as I can. I was out of state on emergency business these past three days and still managed to redo the last few chapters of RSVP I & the first couple of RSVP II in the field so I am trying... R~13_**

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><p><em>zafnak 721/13 . chapter 2_

I beg to differ. Were Warmonga and Warhok really all that pathetic? I mean, they brought Earth to it's knees in a matter of hours and were only beaten when Ron powered up and went all MMP on their alien backsides and tossed them into their own spaceship, killing them. And it was only the TWO of them running the show.

For that matter, Yono the Destroyer wasn't pathetic either losing only because of Monkeyfist's inability to defeat a two year old girl. Zorpox, while having a goofy names, was perhaps THE most effective KP villain of the lot. I mean, he even scared *Shego* for goodness sake, and she doesn't scare easily!

And speaking of Shego... pathetic? I don't thinks so!

_**Mea culpa! I was a little hasty and sleep deprived when I wrote those comments. I was thinking more along the lines of Chester Yapsby and Falsetto Jones and most of the Rogues Gallery who get taken down by a couple of teenagers in about 20 minutes (or less) of the actual story time. And I was also coming off another conversation with Sentinel103 on the typical failures of overly convoluted Take Over The World schemes by the likes of Drakken & his ilk. The Lowardians, The Yono, and Shego (when unimpeded by Drakken's restrictive schemes) are in a different class altogether. Which makes finding a foe more dangerous than these even more of a challenge. R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 721/13 . chapter 2 _

Good stories.  
>RSVP 1: Who was dumb enough to assign Frugal Lucre to buying the vehicles? I like Francis, and his cousins Dr. Mark Devanow, and Paul Lassiter. I think Francis has been hanging out too much with his other cousin Ernest Foley. He's probably upset over losing his pet grasshopper Molt and the family pet gator Roger. If he's not careful he could end up having to go spend time with his cousin David.<p>

Actually if Ron said "Seriously" a lot he'd sound like Motor Ed not "the Ron Man". You know, Ron hits the "Re-Start" button one too many times and he's going to walk away with complete amnesia.

RSVP 2: Wait, let's see if I have this correct: Joss is biologically 20 something years old, but chronologically 16 year's old. Sounds like something straight out Yoroiden Samurai Troopers aka Ronin Warriors. I thought it was Kimberly Anne Possible, and that the Ann has an "e" at the end like Anne Shirley.

Keep up the good work.

**_Ah, you are a Richard Kind fan, I see. And, yeah, it's a balancing act with the Possible girls: one false move and the story gets into icky territory. (Hey! I'm watching you guys! I'm starting a list!) _**

**_As for the Ann(e) factor. Reliable sources have their names as Dr. Anne Possible and Kimberly Ann Possible. Mom has the "e"; daughter doesn't. And thanks! R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 829/13 . chapter 2 _

whoa, what the hell does Justine have planned?

**_You'll see...eventually... R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler chapter 2 . 727/14_

Did 'Rufus' really just call him "Ron Possible"? Surely the Spirit isn't trying to pre-ordain stuff, is it?

_**Good catch UB! Apparently Spirit Rufus isn't entirely omnipotent (or me, either)! It's now fixed.**_

I'm a little surprised as well that Hanna didn't call attention to the Uptopian during her early observations. I could just envision her pulling the poor woman into a make-believe tea party. Of course it would have been a weird one given the shinobi simians would likewise be in attendance.

_**Hana is a law unto herself and likes to play her cards close to her vest...or diaper.**_

This is a very, very elaborate web the author has woven. Ought to be interesting to see where the next strand goes.

_**Especially when I add new ones. ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>Laserai chapter 2 . 728/14_

Interesting. So as expected, the AOE or Area of Effect mind wipe that Ron used against the girls with his MMP was not lasting. Makes since considering its try to cover a wide area rather then a focused beam on one person. Anyone familiar with energy weapons will agree with this assessment since his power seems to be drawing a similarity.

_**A very good explanation...**_

That would also explain what is happening with the girls. We still don't know what happened to Bebe, Cece and er I forget the other one. Are they dealing with a similar memory recall as the girls or is something else going on?

_**Bebe, Cece, and Dede will return shortly, as will the other "missing" characters. In dealing with such a large cast I have to shuffle who will appear in which chapters as they won't all be in the same place at the same time (most of the time). But fear not, questions will be addressed shortly...some of them, anyways...**_

Lots of unanswered questions and possibilities. Since I have not read your old story, I can not comment on if I would have taken it down for rewrite. However, I can respect an artist decision especially one as talented as you.

If you believe your original work could use a do-over then who am I to complain? Your work thus far has been nothing short of marvelous so I am sure I will not be disappointed. I will look forward to your continued efforts. Keep charging. Laserai out.

_**Thanks, Laserai. At least you won't have to wait around for "new" chapters to be (re)posted as readers did the first time through. R~13**_

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><p><em><strong>PyroNagus chapter 2 . 1022/14**_

Hey I got the answers for my questions right away, yay. At least my questions about the missing characters and the alien anyway. Heh... Got my answers halfway through the story... That is flippin hilarious.

_**So many plot threads...some take a little time to come back around on the great mandella that is the RSVP Saga...**_

Naturally the first two chaps have been recapping the events of RSVP one. More so than a regular tv series 'previously in RSVP' as they introduced some new untold elements into the story. I.E. Hana being able to see through the alien's cloaking.

_**Yeah, I figured on some readers discovering Part II and being too "unmotivated" to go back and read Part I first. But I didn't want to leave you and the other real readers hanging while recapping a bit...**_

I completely understand the risks of cloaked infiltration of a full blown party...whatever Bonnie. Topless distraction... Anyway refraction of light is a helpful stealth technique at some distance but easily noticeable in close range and in illuminated environments. Which I assume is what the assassin is using. Oh trust me, being a professional CRISIS gamer I know how loud a soldier screams when he realizes that there is a cloaked heavily armored killing machine aiming a shotgun at his face. Of course by the time he opens his mouth I usually punch the lights out of him. Hehe... And you have no idea what I'm talking about. XD

_**Haven't gamed for a few years but I can image somewhat...**_

But back to your story, I'm surprised Ron didn't make a move when he noticed the assassin watching him in part one. I wonder what's up with that. But looking forward to the blonde identity she is going to assume, I'd say she'd have to 'up it up', considering her 'attractive' features went unnoticed last time she bothered Ron.

_**Well, Ron's been a little distracted...and the MMP is not as easily managed as some stories would have it...small children, dogs and cats can often sense things that us grown-ups are totally oblivious to. As for attractiveness? Ron's been pretty resistant to what he can see right in front of him. Who knows, though: maybe she has some strange, alien powers...**_

I'm still having trouble believing that any memory can be retained from an erased timeline. Scientifically the erased timeline is an all together different alternate universe. The show just picked on another universe which is supposed to be completely separate from the one which effectively ended itself. Meaning our Ron never met the blonde and therefore shouldn't remember anything about her. But hey... Meat cakes so ya. For a pinch of comedy the evil overlord Micky Mouse ignored this little scientifical fact.

_**Two words: Quantum Entanglements!**_

Aliens can brain scan, huh? WELL THANKS FOR MAKING MY NAP-TIME A LITTLE LESS RESTLESS, RIPPY. But unlucky for the Uptodians, our little assassin here is female. And we all know what happens to females in this story... Ya, that and they get amnesia. XD

_**Well, we'll see...**_

Sorry for my long comments, I hope they don't bother ya. Love your stuff. ;)

_**Naw, doesn't bother! I'm flattered you take the time to comment in depth. Visitors arriving in the next chapter: enjoy! R~13**_


	3. Gough!

**Required Disclaimer:**_ Kim Possible: Disney; yes! Kim Possible: Me; no! I have no creative, financial, or legal involvement in anything Kim Possible. Except for this fanfiction. Which is SO non-profit that I actually lose money every time I sit down to work on this story!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Three – Gough!<strong>

Sometimes she would come to him in the night.

She would enter his bedchamber, wrapped in a sheer white gown and sit on the edge of the bed while he caressed her rounded belly, swollen with quickening life that was their daughter.

As the weeks had passed, she had visited more frequently and would often recline against him in the grey hour before the dawn. His arms wrapped around her, she would settle back against his chest and sigh with a wistful contentment as he murmured words of love and longing in her delicate, shell-like ear.

Sometimes she would softly sing to him and other nights, he to her. But, most often, they would both sing to their daughter, together, as she reposed in her mother's womb beneath the clasp of their entwined fingers.

And as Yori's breathing eased into the deeper rhythm of the REM cycle, he would croon to her, instead:

_Yuki ga furu__  
><em>_Shizukana Lullaby utau awai yokogao__  
><em>_Toji komerareta chiisana heya wa__  
><em>_Ai to yoberu kiga shiteiru_

(The snow falling down.)  
>(While you sing a quiet lullaby, I catch a fleeting glimpse of your profile.)<br>(I'm trapped in a small room, I love you while my spirit calls out to you.)

And in that grey hour, which is neither night nor day, he could imagine himself—_themselves_—back in their cozy hut, in their rumpled bed, high in the Yamanouchi cascade. Before the quake, before the flood, in that brief time of peace and happiness…

_Kotoba mo iranakute__  
><em>_Omoide ga yawaraide__  
><em>_Yasuragi nante shiranai kedo__  
><em>_Ichiban sokoni chikai bashode nemuritai dake__  
><em>_Anata no sobani iru_

(Words are needless, lost memories softened peacefully, but how strange…)  
>(First there in that close place where I only just slept.)<br>(Close beside you.)

And then, just like the quake, just like the tsunami, the morning would come like a thundering, slow-motion wave of light and terrible brightness…

_Yuki ga furu__  
><em>_Shizukana Lullaby Sotto yoru wo uzumete__  
><em>_Kanashii kotowa shiritakunaino__  
><em>_Dakara zutto utatteite__  
><em>_Yoakega kurumade__  
><em>_Zutto kono mama_

(The snow falling down.)  
>(A soft lullaby. In the gentle night I bury my face in my hands.)<br>(I don't want to know sorrowful experience, therefore let the singing stay as it is,)  
>(As it is until this dawn.)<p>

…and then they would fade away with the night, a vapor of dreams melted away like the last traces of snow as Spring now began edging toward Summer.

And Ronald Dean Stoppable would rise, as he did each morning, from his too large and too empty bed, to face another hollow day with but three things to give him purpose.

His sister.

His friends.

And the villain who had destroyed the Stoppable and Possible families.

He would find and utterly destroy this so-called Mastermind. There was absolutely no question of that. He could not fully protect Hana…or Anne and Joss…or any of those around him with complete surety until the monster was dead and completely obliterated.

His love and affection for his first and second priorities fueled the hatred that burned brightly whenever he contemplated the third.

His hatred sharpened that purpose and kept him motivated but he knew that he was not yet ready to make his move without endangering those that had gathered around him. He would have to wait until…certain things…were accomplished.

So he meditated daily so as to find balance with the love that had been strained by the deaths of his parents and his wife and unborn daughter. For without balance, love and hate were a very volatile mix that could lead to madness…

As he put his feet down on the floor, he saw the open bedroom window and felt the moisture where the rain had blown in during the night and soaked the carpet.

And then he saw the imprint of feminine footprints in a trail across the moist surface, leading from edge of his mattress to the window—as if a delicate, nocturnal visitor had recently left his bed and walked over to the fourth story casement and launched herself out into the early morning skies.

**RSVP**

As Dr. Vivian Porter moved the scanner across the carpet, Shego turned to Yoshi and motioned for her to move farther away from the scene of the…intrusion.

"So, are you sure that ninja-tot stayed in her crib all night?" Ron's Head of Security asked.

Yoshiko nodded. "After he asked, I reviewed the video files from Hana's nanny-cam. She never left her crib, much less her room."

"Not even to crawl up the wall or do a little dance on the ceiling?" Shego asked in a softer tone while keeping an eye on Ron's Tech guru.

The Global Justice-assigned nanny and bodyguard was surprised. "You know about that?"

"I know about a lot of things," the former villainess growled. "It's my job. What I don't know is if we're dealing with a waking dream, an actual ghost, or a small human with a silent jetpack. This suite is four stories up and was locked and alarmed last night. The only way in was through the window. We're four stories up and there's no fire escape, no ledge, no adjacent drainpipe or outer cabling. The brickwork is undisturbed so no one climbed up from the ground and there's no evidence of anyone rappelling down from the roof."

"So," the Asian operative said as she contemplated the mystery, "you are thinking maybe…a ghost?" Her parents had told her many stories of the _yūrei _who wandered the earth seeking revenge or closure when they had died without joining the spirits of their ancestors.

Shego snorted. "A bad dream, more likely." Her face grew more thoughtful. "Or a bittersweet one…"

"Ron-kun sometimes moans in his sleep," Yoshi murmured.

Shego's eyes grew sharp. "And how do you know that?"

The Asian woman's cheeks flamed. "I—ah—back when we were at the hotel—Dr. Director assigned me to watch over Stoppable-san. I had security cams in every room of the suite…"

"Did you now?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And how about our new digs? Is Betts having you plant eyes and ears here, as well?"

"Er, no. My primary loyalties are to Hana and her brother, now. Though it might be wise to—"

Shego shook her head. "As head of security I already _proposed_ and he _disposed_. Even brought it up again in light of his concerns this morning."

"And he values his privacy too much," Yoshi concluded.

"Maybe. Though I got the feeling that this is one mystery that he's kind of ambivalent about solving."

"Got something!" Vivian announced, bending down to scrape a portion of the carpet with a glass vial and a large swab-stick.

Shego moved toward the scientist. "Please tell me it's not ectoplasm and you're not going to build a proton energy pack!"

The blonde shook her head. "Epithelial cells. Most likely from the soles of the feet of our intruder. I'll run a DNA sequence to eliminate Ron but the fading infra-red signatures suggest someone smaller.

"Like a child?"

"The heat imprints were too degraded when I started so I couldn't get actual shapes or accurate measurements. But the stride lengths and ratios suggest a woman or a small man as opposed to a child." She looked up and locked eyes with Shego. "It's not Hana."

"How about one of those ninja monkeys? He's got them quartered in the basement while the greenhouses are being finished and stocked on the roof, but they pretty much have the freedom to come and go as they please."

Vivian took a couple of seconds to consider the possibility and then shook her head again. "The overall gait would be different. This is a human stride…"

"Okay, so if it's not a monkey and it's not a ghost, then who is it?"

"You're the head of security."

"And, as such, I'm consulting the rocket scientist."

"_Robot_ scientist."

"Whatever. Run your tests, tell me what you find, and what do you recommend in the meantime?"

Vivian looked around the bedroom. It was unfinished as the workmen had been prioritized to work on the basic amenities and get Vivian's lab and Hana's quarters finished first. "I could set up some equipment in here for tonight…"

Shego shook her head. "Propose it and I'll back you up. But I'm pretty sure that he'll say no. Any other suggestions?"

"Well…if he won't let me put equipment in the room, he could put me here, instead."

Shego's eyes narrowed. "You. Tonight. In his _bedroom_."

"Someone should stand watch."

Yoshi was suddenly standing next to Shego. "Do you plan on 'standing' all night?"

Shego casually lifted her arm across Yoshi's path. "Relax. If there's any standing tonight, it'll be a job for security."

Vivian smiled but, as she turned away, she muttered: "Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?"*

**RSVP**

Pop teen sensation Britina dropped her stapler into her bag and strode toward the edge of the Upperton campus. Putting up a couple of hundred flyers with her missing cousin's face on them was not the sort of work she was used to and she was tired, hungry and thirsty. The easiest thing to do would be to head over to the Student Center and grab an early lunch. Take a load off of her aching feet.

But there was too great a risk that one of the students might recognize her, despite the sunglasses and brunette wig. Someone had mentioned a new restaurant just off campus in this direction so she put her head down and headed away from the small city of people her own age, figuring she was less likely to be recognized by an older demographic.

While it would have been all too easy to pay other people to canvass the neighborhoods around the campus or put up close to a thousand flyers over a four day period, Britina felt an obligation to do it herself. Jessie was her cousin. You didn't hire other people to do the things that you could do, yourself. Sure, she had retained the services of a couple of private detectives—you _do_ hire people with the skills and resources that you, yourself, _don't_ possess—but walking around and putting up "Have You Seen This Girl?" posters? If you hire strangers to do that while you sit at home with your feet up and a cold drink at hand: _so_ _not cool!_

Besides, she knew her cousin better than any volunteer, any paid canvasser, even better than any cop and she was better motivated.

But, for the moment, she had hit a wall and needed to take a break.

She crossed the street and walked through an empty lot. There, one block over, was a warehouse where she expected to see some sort of eating establishment. She shrugged and kept walking: maybe one of the construction guys loitering around the front could direct her to a nearby restaurant.

There were three construction "guys" and a female spectator she noticed as she got closer. And then she corrected herself: two of the workers were men but the third was a woman wearing coveralls and a hard hat. The paunchy, middle-aged man was working a mini-crane on the back of a flat-bed truck and kept stealing glances at his co-worker on the sidewalk below. Britina could hardly blame him: even in baggy overalls, it was clear that the woman had some serious curves. And her hard hat did little to hide a pretty face and a long fall of platinum blonde hair that suggested Swedish model more than construction cutie. The woman ignored the crane operator, turning her full attention to the third person on the crew who was straddling a large sign suspended from the boom. Both were directing the crane operator as both the sign and the man riding it came closer to the metal scaffolding above the main door, some twenty feet off the ground.

The guy riding the sign, a stylized grouping of five letters that spelled _**DEAN'S**_, had unbuttoned his denim shirt and pulled it down around his waist where he had secured it by tying the sleeves across the lower third of his washboard abs. Britina stopped still, lost in admiration for the lean yet chiseled torso that was all too distracting until a car horn startled her forward again.

The spectator, a redhead, turned and smirked as she instantly deduced what had happened.

"Heather?"

"Not so loud," the starlet said, "or _I_ might have to start name-dropping, too."

"Sorry," Britina apologized as she joined her on the sidewalk. "I was a little distracted," she added, looking up.

"Me, too."

They both watched in mutual silence for a bit as the young man swung a leg out of the way as the sign kissed up to the mounting brackets on the building's façade. "Hold it!" he called to the man operating the crane.

Heather started a bit and took a step closer to peer up at the hunky guy working the massive display into place as if he were standing on the ground the whole piece didn't weigh upwards of half a ton.

Britina stepped up next to her. "What is it?" she whispered. "Aside from the obvious, that is?"

The actress shook her head. "I thought for a moment…"

"What? That you recognized him?"

She smiled. "Worse than that. It sounded like…but…no…" She turned back to the pop star. "How is your mission coming? Have you learned anything?"

Britina shook her head. "Nothing helpful. The police have no leads. Worse, they're more than a little distracted right now. There were several Kim Possible sightings recently but they've all turned out to be false leads or dead ends."

Heather nodded. "Found out pretty much the same. Added weirdness? The Possible house seems to be surrounded by some kind of force-field. That Global Justice group has got everything cordoned off and won't let anyone within three blocks of it."

"What about the sidekick? I heard that Ron Stoppable was back in town—for his parent's funerals, at least."

Heather looked back up and sighed—though it was unclear as to whether it was in regard to the question or for the hottie goodness bolting the sign to the framework over their heads. "He seems to have gone to ground, as well. He was staying at the Bilkmore Hotel just a week ago but he's moved out. It was only by sheer luck that I found one of his old high school teachers who suggested that I come down here."

"Down here?" Britina looked around. "Down where?"

"This warehouse. Mr. Barkin said to look for this warehouse that was being rehabbed. And ask around."

"So, have you?" Britina asked, turning her attention back up to the man who was starting to uncouple from seemingly secure sign.

"Have I what?" Heather asked, her own eyes locked on to the tight butt in the seemingly tighter jeans.

"Asked around?"

"Don't be silly, B. I only got here a half hour ago."

**RSVP**

Dr. Porter took the elevator up to the fourth floor and entered the suite that served as her lab, work space, and living quarters. Like much of the other "living" areas, the basic amenities were in place though such rudimentary décor as paint, wallpaper, and certain promised luxuries were still another week away at the very least. Furnishings were still minimal: a cot, a couple of chairs, and sawhorses holding sheets of plywood and upended cable spools to serve as tables in her work areas.

One such table held a disassembled military drone and upon another a manlike configuration of parts was laid out on another like a robot autopsy. Vivian sat down on an old stepladder and opened her laptop perched on a half-finished counter.

"Smooth, Viv, really smooth…" she muttered to herself as she uploaded the scan data from Ron Stoppable's apartment. "Acting all proprietary about the big boss when the actual bodyguard work is none of your business…"

Well, actually, it _was_ part of her business. Security tech was a portion—a big portion of what he had tasked her with. But being physically in his bedroom…at night…was crossing the line. It was…improper…and not part of her job description…

She shouldn't have even suggested it.

Why would she even suggest it?

Why…

Oh! _Hot flash!_

The beautiful blonde scientist quickly unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it from her shapely shoulders.

Looking down she could see that her skin was flushed and she felt an unaccustomed heat rising from her chest to her face.

This was the third time, now!

And each time she had been thinking about…_him_.

Why?

Why did this guy have such an odd effect on her?

Such a strong effect on her?

Perhaps she should run some more scans in his room…

…but leave out the carpet, this time.

Something was off. But she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

It was as if there was a hole in her mind.

**RSVP**

She came in through the loading dock, and followed a forklift with a load of lumber until she could see that Ron Stoppable wasn't in this part of the building.

Zig-zagging through a series of denuded partitions and framing for future walls, she passed through a large kitchen area and out into a quiet alcove with a half-dozen tables and a scattering of chairs.

A black girl was sitting in one with a bandaged leg propped up on another as she looked through a massive catalog of fabric swatches.

"M-Monique?"

She looked up at the woman who had paused in the corridor. "Hey, Shego…" Her eyes widened as she took in the old green and black cat-suit. "Uh, do you think that's such a good idea?"

The mint-hued woman gave herself a little shake. "W-what?"

The fashion-maven gestured at her outfit. "I mean, aside from looking like you've reverted to your old ways, the green and black harlequin-diamond motif is so 2004. If you're going to insist on keeping the whole body-stocking silhouette, let me at least design something more updated. And there're plenty of hues that go well with green and black besides black and green."

Shego stared at her as if she didn't understand Monique's offer.

"Mon," she said finally, "where's Ron?"

"Out front, I think. They delivered the sign this morning, you know." She frowned, picking up on the Security Chief's body language. "Is something wrong?"

Shego answered the question, herself by coming down the corridor from the opposite direction.

_This _Shego was wearing black jeans and an emerald silk shirt. She stopped as she noticed her twin facing her from some twenty feet away.

A moment of stunned silence was followed by a sound akin to four barbeque grills being lit: two separate pairs of hands ignited as Monique rolled under the table, yelling: "Fire in the hole!"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Well, waaaaay back at the beginning of RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron, I established (for the purposes of this fanfic) that Shego's actual name was Sheila Gough. So, I'm kind of punning with the titles of chapters 1 and 2: "On Your Marks, Get Set, Go!"<strong>

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><p><strong>AuthorsNotes: **_***Vivian's response to Shego's volunteering to watch over Ron at night is the famous Latin quote from the 1st Century poet Juvenal: "Who watches the watchmen?" **_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 3<strong>

_CajunBear73 3/7/12 . chapter 3_

Infiltration? But it's early...

**_Which infiltration? Ron's nocturnal visitations or Shego times 2? R~13_**

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><p><em>Pavelius 37/12 . chapter 3_

I am having a light "Ghostbusters" feeling here... darn... now i have the themesong in my head... damn you Ray Parker Jr.!

And so the circle begins again... the women are in competition again over Ron...

Keep it up

Pavel

**_Better the theme song from "Ghostbusters" than "Tubular Bells" from "The Exorcist." R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 37/12 . chapter 3_

Ah a nice pause type chappie...nobody got killed...yet.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

**_Yes, yet… R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox <em>_7/21/13 . chapter 3 _

Forgot to mention in last chapter: I look forward to when Ron regains his memories, learns how many of the women like him, that Kim's alive, and nothing really bad happened to Yori. (See Hirotaka). It would really fry his brain and make for one great faint. Now if only nothing had happened to Elle, Lynn or Camille.

Gough as in Michael Gough?

**_Yeeaah, about that..._**

**_You know it's not gonna be that simple, right?_**

**_But there will be a number of reasons for Ron to faint... (he he!)_**

**_And no...RIP Michael, you were a great Alfred...the title is riffing on Shego's last name: Sheila Gough. It was early in RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron, so it's been awhile. R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 829/13 . chapter 3 _

That has to be Kim right... God I hope it is. I won't be able to handle digger twist.

**_Which Kim? (whistles innocently) R~13_**

* * *

><p><em>Laserai chapter 3 . 728/14_

And your layers of confusion continue to shock and amaze. First an unknown female visitor with the seeming physique and body build of his late wife. Now a second Shego still wearing her old "villainess" mission clothes emerges in a face off against the security chief and reformed Shego that everyone else knows. Another synthodrone perhaps?

_**A large clue awaits to the second question in the next chapter. The answer to the first may take a little longer...**_

Still no appearance from the Bebe bots or Electronique as of yet. Are they still to emerge at some point or have they met their doom? I hope not.

_**Fear not, the bots are around. As for Electronique? Define what you mean when you say "doom"...**_

Also his circle of female lovers is starting to recover from their memory lapse. I honestly don't know what he was thinking. No man can adequately understand the inner working of God's creation known as woman. All poor man can do is cope and try to accept what he knows and will never completely understand. This inescapable truth is starting to reveal itself.

_**Erm...I'm not ready to call any of them his "lovers"...yet. There may some one-way interest but Ron's only had one "lover" so far (though he and Shego have been kindo of intimate with the whole sharing consciousness thing). But you never can tell what's going to develop...**_

Also where is his wife Yori? We know she managed to survive thanks to a tree that held onto her preventing her trip to Davy Jones locker. Has her unborn child survived as well? Its definitely possible as I have seen such a thing occur. The strength of the will to live of the unborn child and mother is the determining factor and I know for a fact Yori and her offspring are anything but weak. Hopefully you have that all well in hand.

_**She's still in a coma in Japan. For now.**_

Well, questions continue to persist but I am certain will be addressed in due time. Carry on and keep charging. Well today is supposed to be the expected day of my own son though its likely we may be looking at a delay. Hopefully, I won't be waiting much longer.

Laserai out.

Well, the questions (and the resultant mysteries) are what makes a story interesting. If we knew what was going to happen next (or how it all turns out) there wouldn't be much motivation to read a story. But keep asking those questions so I won't forget a character or a subplot (some parts of the story are like herding cats and the occasional stray manages to evade me for awhile!).

_**Congratulations on the impending fatherhood! Many, many sleepless nights await you! ;-) R~13**_


	4. Two Go

**Authors/Notes: **

_**I will be changing the story's rating with the next chapter. After this one you will have to set the stories rating filter to "M" or "All" if you want to see any more of **_**RSVP II: The Two Powers**_**. **_

_**While most of the story will continue to fall within the "T" category—and I have read "T" rated stories here that are more "M" than what I'm writing—I just want to play it safe. **_

_**Riplakish13**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ Fan-Fiction. Not for profit. No rights: creative or financial._

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><p><strong>Chapter Four – Two Go<strong>

As the young construction worker rode the crane's cable down to the sidewalk, the girls stepped back as he descended just a few feet away. Suddenly self-conscious, they both glanced about as if to pretend that they hadn't been staring.

"Dean's," the redhead said, reading the sign that had just been mounted above the entryway. "I wonder what it's going to be…"

"A restaurant," the young man answered as he stepped down onto the sidewalk and gave the all clear signal to the crane operator.

"Darn!" the blonde said a bit wistfully. "I asked for directions to a _working_ restaurant; not one that was still under construction."

"You sound a little hungry," he said, doffing his hard hat and running his fingers through his light brown hair.

"More than a little," she admitted.

His blue eyes looked a little tired but they crinkled nicely at the corners as he smiled. "Well, if you're not too picky, there's enough in the kitchen to make you something—even if it's only a sandwich." He looked over at the other woman. "Maybe even two sandwiches."

"We wouldn't want to get you in trouble with the owner," Heather answered with a warming smile.

Britina shot her a look that suggested she'd gladly take that risk if it meant getting something to eat. And spending a little more time with this brown-haired, blue-eyed hottie.

"Not to worry, ladies. The owner is a close, personal friend. Mi casa es tu casa…"

At that moment one of the two doors was blown off of its hinges by a gout of orange flame.

"…but there may be a little trouble with the stove," he added. "Wait right here." He turned and ran into the building.

**RSVP**

Monique's first concern was to _not_ go back to the hospital.

Or end up dead.

Cowering under a table wasn't ordinarily her style but she had clocked too much time in a hospital bed recently and no purpose would be served by exposing herself to hostile fire.

And, man oh man; there was a lot of fire!

The two Shegos were tumbling and ricocheting around the room like a pair of Olympic gymnasts armed with flame-throwers and coked up on methamphetamines. The Shego in the green and black cat-suit was hurling balls of orange fire while the Shego in the green shirt and black pants was flinging giant teardrops of green plasma.

At first they seemed to be rather evenly matched. But, as the battle continued, orange fire Shego seemed to gain the advantage. For one thing, her cat-suit seemed to be somewhat plasma-resistant. The other Shego had scorch marks on her jeans and the silk shirt had been partially blasted away on her right side. For another…

"Yeah, you're pretty used to throwing the fire at others," Cat-suit taunted. "Not so used to having it thrown at you, are you?"

"_Who_ are you?' the other Shego demanded. "What do you want?"

"Why, _I'm_ Shego," Cat-suit answered. _*Slash*_ "And _I'm_ looking for Ron Stoppable." _*Dodge*_ Who are _you_ and why are _you_ here?" _*Kick*_

"First of all," the other retorted, "_I'm_ the real Shego…" _*Punch*_ "…Ron Stoppable isn't here…" _*Flip*_ "And…oh my God!" she shrieked. "Please tell me that my ass doesn't really look that big in a unitard!"

"What?" Cat-suit tried to glance back down over her shoulder.

"Gotcha!" her opponent said, creating an extra-large wallop of emerald energy.

Which flickered and died before she could launch it at her foe.

"Ha! Run out of gas?" Cat-suit smirked as she prepared her own, extra-large fireball.

_*****BOOM*****_

An even larger ball of blue-green plasma caught Cat-suit in the back, hurling her across the room toward the scorched Shego—who promptly swung a now flameless fist in a haymaker that connected with the flying woman's jaw.

Cat-suit flipped backward and struck her head on a chair as she fell and landed heavily on the floor.

As the scorched victor took a step toward her fallen foe, her path was suddenly blocked by the blue-eyed, brown-haired construction worker who seemed to come out of nowhere.

Bending solicitously toward the groggy cat-suited Shego on the floor, he said: "Miss? Miss? Are you all right? Here, let me help you up."

Smoldering Shego started to growl but, as she stepped toward them, the man's hand came up behind his back and shoed her back.

The female construction worker with the long fall of platinum hair appeared behind the steaming Shego and peered at the scene from over her shoulder.

"Easy," her coworker said. "I got you." As he pulled the downed woman back up with his right hand, he could see that the woman's eyes were starting to clear. That's when his left hand came back around and took her gently but firmly by the chin. Bringing his face close to hers, he spoke in a less gentle voice, now: "_Listen to me…"_

His blue eyes suddenly seemed a lot bluer. In fact, they almost seemed to glow with a azure light of their own. "_…Ron Stoppable is not here_," he insisted. "_Ron Stoppable is gone. He's gone and he won't be back. Do you understand?_"

"R-ron Stoppable is gone…" the cat-suit clad Shego repeated. "…won't be back."

"_And _you_ won't be back, either!_" he continued. "_This is a place that you—or any of your friends—will _never_ want to visit. _Ever!"

"Never…" she agreed.

"_Now, you're going to tell me _who_ you really are…and _why_ you're here. And you're going to surrender—_"

"Never!" his captive repeated more emphatically.

And, suddenly, she was gone!

The clattering sound of two, high-tech wrist bands landing on the floor drew their attention downwards and they caught sight of a six-inch tall Shego running under the chairs and toward the kitchen.

The other Shego began flinging plasma bolts at her—

Or would have, if anything had actually come out of her specific gestures!

"Aargh! Give me my plasma back!" she roared as they gave chase.

A moment later green fire erupted from her fingertips but it was too late: as they rounded the corner and ran into the cooking area, they caught a glimpse of a miniature Shego disappearing into the large floor drain.

Big Shego growled and turned toward the man who had intervened.

Before she could say anything, he gently placed the palm of his hand on her chest and said, "You are _smoking hot!"_

She froze. All of the words that were about to spill out of her mouth evaporated. She stared up at him, leaning into his warm—almost too warm hand—and stuttered: "Excuse me—w-what?"

"I said, you're _smoking!_ And you're _hot!_" He pulled his hand away and showed her how red his palm was. Then he pointed down at the smoldering material of her bra cup. "You're about to burst into flame!"

Her eyes widened and she turned and ran for the sink.

**RSVP**

"So…" Tim Possible said, watching as Justine Flanner applied a micro-weld to the conduit connected to the first of a series four-foot rings ranged in an open tunnel in the Possible home's basement. "This looks a little like that science project that you and Kim built a couple of years back…"

"If you are referring to the Kinomatic Continuum Disruptor that tore a hole through the fabric of space and time, you would be correct," the sour-faced blonde replied. There are, however, three caveats. First, Kim had nothing to do with my hypothesis, design or actual construction of the original device. She merely helped with the—um—er—clean-up. Secondly, this unit is a more _tunable_ gateway designed to be more stable for longer periods of time. And, thirdly, it is a hybridization, rather than a stand-alone configuration, so that it can interface with the—"

"What's that?" Jim Possible asked from his seat at the surveillance monitors.

One of the rings had suddenly lit up and flashing lights, like turquoise heat lightning, flickered inside its circumference.

"Oh shit," Justine whispered. "Stoppable…"

**RSVP**

Dr. V. F. Porter had awakened a week or so back to realize that her life had inexplicably changed.

For some reason she had apparently taken a leave of absence from her job at the Middleton Space Center and had hired on as a "Tech Consultant" for Unstoppable Industries. A quick assessment of her financial agreement along with the facilities that were being installed even now convinced her that she had made a good move.

It was just that the circumstances were a bit hazy in her memory.

It was odd. Her new boss was that Stoppable kid. Well—'man', now. He'd had a growth spurt and developed muscles since she had last seen him during the Dr. Fenn debacle.

And he was apparently rich, now.

What had happened?

Stray memories had slowly filtered in over the past few days.

Something about a nuclear accident.

And later today she was going to get online and watch those videos from last year's Lowardian Invasion…

Right now, however, she was chasing a mysterious EMP reading on her hand-held scanner. There was a strong yet mysterious power emanation within the building—more than one, actually!

Vivian Porter loved a good mystery. It was one of the very reasons that drew her into her studies of science, chemistry, and physics. And her fascination with mysteries was driving her to take a closer look at her new employer, as well. She was starting to get the feeling that working for him would be anything but dull!

Or restful: after running down four flights of stairs and the entire length of the block-long building, making numerous detours along the way, she arrived in the doorway of the kitchen, majorly out of breath. The fact that Vivian Francis Porter was young, blonde, curved like a slalom ski run, and wearing the purple tube top that fit her like a second skin, made her heavy breathing all the more distracting

The young construction worker was already distracted by the sight of a half-naked Shego dousing herself with water from the flexible sprayer at the industrial-sized sink. The silk shirt, already scorched and shredded from her fight with her fiery doppelganger, fell apart and practically dissolved under the spray of cold water.

She tore at her belt with her free hand as she directed the spray on the still smoldering patches of her black and blackened jeans. Wriggling and jiggling and dancing in place, she shimmied out of her pants and kicked them away from her. They ended up a few feet away by the floor drain where they continued to steam and sizzle.

"I—uh—thought you were immune to your plasma powers," the man said, trying to not stare at how the water was turning her bra and panties transparent as they further molded to the mint-skinned woman's body. He looked away and saw Vivian's heaving chest, stress-testing the elasticity of her spandex top and knew that this would be a good time to start thinking about baseball stats.

Too bad he didn't know any.

"_My_ plasma powers," Shego answered through clenched teeth. "But the stuff that lookalike bitch was throwing must have had a different chemistry or frequency or something! Did you see her? Of course you did? Did she really look exactly like me? Does my ass really look that big in—" She shook her head. "How did you know which of us was the real one?"

The construction worker shrugged. "Yours was green, hers was orange. Flames, I mean; not combs—"

"Combs?"

The hottie grinned goofily. "Uh, Bill Cosby. _Greasy Kid Stuff?_ Never mind. Your plasma was different colors: yours was green, hers was orange. And when I called it…yours came to me and that confirmed that she was the double."

"We're gonna have to set some rules, Stoppable. You just can't go hijacking my comet powers when you feel like it!"

Vivian looked from Shego to the young man with blue eyes and brown hair. "What? Wait. What?"

"Sorry, Sheila," he replied as freckles began to appear on his cheeks like the first stars appearing after the sunset. "She was kicking your ass and Monique was in the line of fire, as well. I had to take her down and take her down fast. I needed the element of surprise."

"Surprise? You shot her in the back!"

"I wasn't thinking," he snapped back. "But now that I've had time to think it through—I'd damn well do it exactly the same way that I did before!"

"Back-shooter!"

The female construction worker with the long, platinum hair was watching the back-and-forth like it was some sort of tennis match. She seemed to be taking a number of mental notes.

"What is your ish?" he demanded, as his blue eyes began to muddy into a chocolate brown hue. "This wasn't some sort of tournament contest with rules and judges and points awarded. This was a real threat! A hostile incursion! A situation that looked like it might be more than my security chief could handle! I didn't kill her! I didn't cripple her! I took her down before she could kill or cripple you or Monique!" His mouth hardened. "But I _would_ kill or cripple her in an instant if it meant keeping either of you safe!"

Shego stared at him. Then she hung her head and sighed. "Killing or crippling is my job, Ron. I don't want you getting your hands dirty with anything like that. I'm the one with the stain on her soul: let's keep it that way. All right?"

He stared back at her, his brown hair turning blond. "I don't see any stain when I look at you…"

"It's on the inside," she said softly.

"Still don't see it," he argued. "And I've been in there..."

Her head came up and she blinked at him in surprise.

"…but you do have a little…schmutz…right there…" He pointed to her cheek.

Her had came up slowly and brushed at the wrong cheek.

He shook his head and walked up to her, gently removing the spray hose from her slack grip. "This side," he said, licking his thumb and wiping away the smudge of soot from her cheekbone.

She began to tremble and, as he wrapped his arms around her, she began to sag.

The blue-eyed brunet who had just turned into Ron Stoppable began to swear and then called for Monique. "Get Tara on the phone!" he yelled.

**RSVP**

Britina looked at Heather. "I don't know about you but I'm thinking he's had plenty of time to check out the oven.

"Maybe I should go in there and see if I can help him heat something up," the redhead said, peering into the hallway beyond the blown-open door.

"Oh, ha ha. What about Ron Stoppable," the blonde pop star asked as she followed the actress into the warehouse. "I thought you were looking for Kim's old partner?"

"I can multi-task."

They entered an open area with an alcove to one side. Chairs and tables—some overturned—were scattered about and there were scorch marks on the walls, ceiling and floor. An acrid smell hung over the area like ozone mixed with cordite and a hint of singed meat.

Voices could be heard from a larger doorway toward the back.

"Tara's not picking up. I think she's in class. Should I call 911?" a woman was asking.

The next voice, a man's, was vaguely familiar: "I don't know. The burns don't look that serious. I think she's just in shock."

"Burns and shock don't have to be that serious to warrant a trip to the ER," said a third voice, another female.

"Maybe for you and me," the man argued. "But if you're green and vaguely radioactive, it could end up worse in so many different ways! Let me try something, first…"

The visitors stopped in the doorway and took in the tableau that was unfolding in the large kitchen.

The platinum blonde construction worker was across the room, watching from the other doorway.

Monique—whom Heather recognized from her previous visit with Kim and Britina knew from previous visits with her cousin Jessie—was clutching her cell phone and holding up a pair of fat, gold bracelets adorned with computer chips and rows of wire rings. "The other Shego dropped these when she—um—shrank," she was saying.

A stunning blonde in miniskirt and a purple tube top took the bracelets from her. "Give me a few hours and I might be able to tell you more about the specific qualities of the plasma generated by these emitters. I don't know how much that will help Shego in the short run but I might be able to reverse-engineer them to make more and construct a frequency shield for future combat scenarios."

"Yeah, but right now…" the blond construction worker was saying. He was holding a nearly naked woman with long dark hair in his arms.

Heather and Britina both did a double-take.

It was the male construction worker from the sign outside…and yet it wasn't.

It was the Ron Stoppable they had last seen in person a couple of years ago…and yet it wasn't.

It was as if Ron Stoppable's body had finally cashed all of those checks written by hundreds of world-saving heroic missions that took him from the heights of greatest mountains to the depths of the endless oceans. He had grown into the physique that was molded from treks through dense jungles and harrowing climbs up steep cliffs and tall buildings. All of the raw, physically challenging sitches that would have intimidated professional athletes (who would have known better), honed and shaped through the disciplines of a certain secret ninja school and the fanatical loyalty to an obsessively driven, redheaded taskmistress, Ron Stoppable had put the Army's motto—"Be All That You Can Be"—to shame and further topped it off with the mastery of the mystical monkey power that was bestowed only once every other century or so.

And it wasn't just his outer shell—impressive though it was. There was something in his eyes, now. A confidence. A strength. They were still kind eyes. And they retained a certain vulnerability. They were eyes that had known pain and sorrow but were no longer afraid of anything. At least not for himself.

And, no longer a virgin, they were the eyes of a man who had known the love of a woman.

Not the hormone-driven lusts of an adolescent but a man who had experienced the deeper, more profound spiritual union that comes when two selfless hearts beat as one and each holds the other more dear than life, itself.

It had been tragically torn away from him. And yet, he was calmer, happier, and more complete for having that all too brief gift of Yori's love than if he had never passed through the crucible at all.

Heather and Britina couldn't know all of that. Indeed, even those around him who thought that they knew Ron Stoppable were still profoundly ignorant. But they all knew instinctively, now, that they were in the presence of someone different. Someone in the process of transcendence.

The old Ron-ism, "Never be normal," didn't even begin to cover it.

He lifted the unconscious woman onto a large stainless steel table and then climbed atop it, himself. Settling into a meditative lotus position, he eased the brunette's head into his lap and carefully pulled her impressive fall of midnight hair to the side. "Mon," he said softly as he closed his eyes, "you might want to grab the first-aid kit…just in case."

She nodded and left the room, barely acknowledging Britina and Heather as she brushed by them. They came forward into the kitchen area and had a better view as Ron slowed his breathing and gently placed his fingers around the unconscious woman's forehead.

The blonde woman in the tube top had moved to stand behind Ron, acting as his spotter and ready to catch him were he to suddenly fall backwards. This gave Heather and Britina a clear view of the proceedings, now.

The dark haired woman was strikingly beautiful, her physical perfection marred by two things: her skin was a pale green and a rash of purplish, watery blisters had erupted up her side and down her arms, across her midriff and up over one shoulder.

But, even as they stared at painful-looking sores, they began to disappear!

Some seemed to sink back down into the skin they had pushed up from. Others just faded away like shadows before the dawn's early light.

"Oh. My. God," Heather whispered.

A sudden hissing sound—a sharp intake of breath—turned their attention from the green woman to Ron. His brow was furrowed slightly and moistened by a fine sheen of perspiration.

As he was still shirtless, a good amount of his fair-complexioned skin was on display, its post-winter paleness darker by contrast to the fine—and not-so-fine—white lines and patterns of old scars and wounds collected in facing men and monsters that had thwarted entire law enforcement agencies. But that pale skin was starting to bloom like a rose garden, now. Angry red patches bloomed across his torso and around his arms. A large pustule formed over the lower ribs on his right side.

As new explosions of burn blisters exploded across his flesh, a new voice cried out behind them: "_What the hell?_"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "Two Go" is a nod to the two "Shegos" in this chapter.<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2:**

_**Ooookay, boys and girls, as of Chapter 5, I will change "The Two Powers" from a "T" to an "M" rating. I'll be changing it in the official Story Rating but I'm giving you an early warning here, first.**_

_**Remember, if you're just casually looking for updates, you'll need to set the story rating filter to "M" or to "All."**_

_**Or "follow" the story (or author) automatically.**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 4<strong>

_**These first two reviews were posted back when this was Chapter 46 in the original RSVP file… **_

_CajunBear73  
>2011-10-28 . chapter 4<em>

Quite the event here, and the aftermath.

But who came upon this suddenly?

CB73

**_Your question will be answered in the very next chapter. R~13_**

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><p><em>Pavelius<br>2011-10-29 . chapter 4_

So Kim used her new fused superpowers (i guess the shrinking was Megos power... dunno about the false Shego)... and still got her ass handed ...

And Ron takes Shegos injuries... quite the gentleman... lets see who the new voice is...

So Ron tores through space and time with his power? Maybe he will fix Kim this way... going in an alternative reality or something...

Anyway, enough guessing from my side... i will wait for the next chapters to see how utterly wrong i am ;)

Keep it up

Pavel

_**Y**_**_ou know you're rarely wrong. I'm just lucky that you use your powers as a force for good and not for evil! And as for the ability to look like Shego? Aviarius used his staff to collect Camille Leon's shape-shifting powers just before she was "dispatched" in the hospital back in Chapter 32 of "RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron." And she was wearing the plasma-projecting bracers that she took off of Adrena Lynn back at the end of chapter one of RSVP II. R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 37/12 . chapter 4_

Interesting show there after the flaming battle of Valkyries ended.

Somehow those present know, but for most they can't fully know thanks to Ron's meddling with their memories, that he ain't the Ron of old.

But how is Shego these days? Isn't she still a walking radioactive nightmare? Or not.

CB73

**_As to Shego's radiation issues, she's like a low-level emitter: safe enough if you're around her occasionally for short periods of time but long-term exposure or intimacy is off the table unless you're using Dr. Drakken's formula or radiation resistant—as Ron seems to be. Ron should probably have Dr. Porter look into a solution, though… R~13_**

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><p><em>Pavelius 37/12 . chapter 4_

Dont have much to add to my old review ...

Pavel

**_Crystal ball broken? ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 38/12 . chapter 4_

Ya know Rippy years ago Spectre and I talked about 'healing' and we both thought at the time that injuries didn't just disappear. They had to go somewhere, it looks like you got around to that. Not only can Ron steal 'powers' but he can steal injuries as well.

Seems like everyone is getting past little MMP block.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

**_I like the synchronicity! Stealing injuries as well as powers. Hmmm… R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 722/13 . chapter 4_

I'm reading every word you write.

I'm checking my email on average five times an hour, every hour, just so I catch the next update as soon as humanly possible.

And I'm re-reading every word you write, because I'm missing about 80% of stuff the first time around.

Don't expect reviews every chapter. I don't have the breath to keep up.

**_You missed 80% of what I wrote the first time around? No wonder you were getting blindsided in every chapter! Of course, if you read everything this time around I hope you'll still be blindsided a few times-that's how I'm writing it! And if you need to catch your breath, just tell me to slow down a bit... ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 722/13 . chapter 4_

Another good chapter.  
>Hmm, alright comments about Ch. 4: I think Schmutz would work better than shmuch. Of course I need to brush up on my Nanny Fine reference material. I think the "Be All You Can Be" is the Army's. The Marines' are "The Few, the Proud, the Gibbs…I mean Marines." (Head slap's himself. "Sorry Gibbs.")<p>

As for previously: List what list? Actually I was trying to understand what was being said about Anne and Betty de-aging and Joss aging. Very technical, then it occurred to me, it's like the Dark Warlords of Ronin Warriors.

Richard Kind, great actor. I love his reactions to whatever was going on around him whether facial reactions or verbal reactions. Richard and David Puddy were my favorites from the show. Oh and Ren Stevens. As for Anne vs. Ann: Well, I guess you can't always rely on closed captioning. Yeah I know it's not that simple, I said when it does happen. I meant was Sheila's last name a tribute to Michael Gough?

Keep up the good work.

**_Thanks, DF. I took your suggestion on schmutz and made the correction. Ditto the Army motto-I feel like such a Dinozzo! The whole Shego name thing gets bounced around a lot here at FFdotNET. I've seen "Gough" turn up two or three times before, liked the tie-in to "Go," and knowing (of) Michael Gough just made it that much easier to use the name. Don't know if I'd call it a tribute but he certainly contributed to the decision. _**

**_BTW, was rewatching "The Legend of Hell House" the other night and was pleasantly surprised to see Michael Gough in a cameo near the very end. He had a number of roles in the Hammer horror movies back in the 1950s through the 1970s. Even played a villain on Doctor Who. But I'm betting that you know all that. R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 830/13 . chapter 4 _

I wonder who showed up at the end.

**_Good thing the next chapter is already up so you can find out... ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Laserai chapter 4 . 729/14_

Interesting. Ron seems to not only be able to borrow Shego's powers but also take her injuries upon himself as his own. Once again interesting. Considering his ability to take her powers though he gives them back, it is not without reason he could even go so far as to take her injuries as well.

_**Yes. A slightly different development on that "power" later...**_

Remarkable power and yet it is used for good. I can only imagine if he was turned to the darkside as Zorpox yet this time with his powers. But we all know the MMP will not activate for someone who is of the dark so fortunately that is not a reality that is possible.

_**Tru dat. But what if "Zorpox" was "transformed" somehow?**_

And his mind wipe of the girls continues to unravel as expected. Plus what is going on with the twins? What are those lil tweebs working on now? Should be fun to watch how their situation continues to develop.

_**A significant plot twist awaits down the road!**_

Keep charging. I can't get enough of this story. On a side note, looks like I have a few more days of peace as my son to be hasn't emerged just yet. Doc says if nothing happens by Sunday, he will start the inducing process and get the ball rolling that evening.

Laserai out.

_**Ah, sleep now! Sleep as much as you can! And keep telling yourself that blessed sleep can be yours again...in two to three years! LOL R~13 R~13**_


	5. Out There, In Here

**Author's Notes: WARNING, WARNING: As of this chapter, RSVP: The Two Powers is now rated "M" just as the previous story, "RSVP: The Fellowship of the Ron" was. **_**Continue under your own recognizance.**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ If I owned or could make money off of Kim Possible in any way, do you think I would be writing KP Fanfiction? You must be mad to suggest or believe that this is anything but a foolish exercise in non-profit frippery!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five – Out There, In Here<strong>

Her analyst had boiled down the past decade of her life down to a single word: _Ambivalence_.

When she had been a hero, the people around her—family included—had either dismissed her or treated her badly.

When she became a villain, those same people had either feared her or showed her respect.

And, in a sense, she had done greater good while doing "evil" than she had ever accomplished as her brothers' "whipping girl."

Drakken, for all of his reputation as a bumbler and a failure in the "mad scientist" department, really was a certifiable genius in many respects. Under the right circumstances he might have taken over the world—or at least done it irreparable harm.

Fortunately, he had been thwarted by two women on most of those occasions.

First, there was Mama Lipsky, who had wreaked so much emotional and psychic damage on the young Drew Lipsky that he either self-sabotaged many of his potentially successful projects or found himself mis-motivated in the pinch.

For those occasions where his plans for world domination veered away from megalomania and into psychopathic genocide, a certain green-skinned misanthrope was perfectly positioned to tip off Global Justice or else create a distraction with a certain too-big-for-her-own-britches redhead, giving the more-than-capable blond boy a clear shot at the destruct button.

Oh, make no mistake about it: committing crimes, outwitting the _gendarmes_, and living the life of an international cat burglar appealed to her. As long as no one really got hurt—something else that might have turned out different if Drakken had paired up with somebody different.

_Like that psycho-bitch Adrena Lynn._

Still, nobody else in the world had a clue that they were alive and well, thanks to Shego acting as a built-in governor on the Doctor Drakken Engine of Ultimate Destruction.

And her rep—while gaining her respect out on the mean streets—cut her no slack in the _boudoir_.

The assholes and psychos and bad boys all wanted a crack at her. The nice guys wanted nothing to do with her. Good or bad, it was damned if she did and damned if she didn't.

And she finally understood that it was too late, now: she had been "bad" for too long. Living and dying alone was her reward, her just desserts, for leading the life of a criminal.

She _deserved_ to be punished.

She _needed_ to be punished!

_Which was why she had finally been caught and taken into custody._

But…no common, ordinary cell for the comet-powered super villain.

No ordinary sentence of serving down-time measured in months or years or decades.

Those sorts of things were for ordinary villains and sentences could be commuted.

And they actually had.

She had been pardoned: legally absolved of all past illegal acts.

But that didn't change the fact that she was still "bad" and still needed to be punished!

Oh, no…

That was why her captivity was ensured, now, with plasma-dampening wrist-suppressors, attached to the reinforced molybdenum steel headboard of the bed she was currently shackled to. Naked and spread-eagled, she was helpless to do anything but submit to her punishment. A righteous flogging that was about to be carried out by the virtuous and noble avatar of all that was good and lawful and appropriately ironic…

Ron Stoppable!

He stood over her, now, slapping the shiny leather whip against the palm of his left hand.

Hearing the soft smacking sound of leather on work-hardened skin she shivered, imagining the sound that the tip would make when it finally came down fast enough to make that cracking sound that meant it was breaking the sound barrier.

She trembled, imagining how it would feel, sinking, not into the calluses of a man's hands but the softer parts of a woman's shame and glory.

_Do you want to beg?_ Stoppable asked. The lights were bright and the room was hot: every inch of her flushed voluptuousness was exposed to his merciless blue gaze. A trickle of sweat matted down a path through the golden spray of hair that was beginning to carpet his defined and hardened pectorals.

_No_, she said, searching his eyes for any sign of mercy and half-hoping that she would find none. _I deserve to be punished!_ Her own gaze traveled down his chiseled abs and dropped even lower. She wondered if her flogging would involve that other weapon as well. _I am villainous scum_, she whispered, licking her suddenly dry lips. _Make me your bitch and take me as you please…_

_I will_, her captor promised with a cruel smile. _You'll beg well enough before I'm done—_

As the whip came up, a door opened in the wall behind him and Ron Stoppable peeked into the room.

_Another_ Ron Stoppable, that is.

This Ron Stoppable was naked to the waist but he had the decency to have some pants on. His brown eyes were kind and his mouth soft and smiling instead of hard and cruel. Though said eyes and mouth were opening rather wide as he took in the sight of a naked Shego chained to the bed and some familiar-looking guy with what looked like a whip standing over her.

Doorway Ron rubbed the back of his head and forced a nervous smile. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked pensively. "Because, if I am, I could come back later…"

The blond simulacrum with the whip dissolved away into nothingness. The leather coil dropped to the floor with a smacking sound that made the green-skinned captive flinch in her bonds.

And then those special restraints disappeared as well.

Shego sighed and sat up. "Ya know, Ron…even when there _isn't_ a self-destruct button, ya still manage to push it."

**RSVP**

"Ron's doing this?" Jim Possible asked, staring at the coruscations of colors sheeting across one of the metal hoops aligned in a tunnel-like sequence in the Possible basement.

"Most of it," Justine said, plainly annoyed: her scowling face was even more scowly than usual. "The dominant blue colors denote his energy signatures for his M-ray emanations. The orange and green overtones, however, suggest alternate energy sources that are broadcasting in close proximity and piggybacking onto the ethereal, trans-dimensional carrier wave that he's emitting."

"And how big a problem does this present?" Tim Possible asked.

"If we can't recalibrate or find a way to insulate against this frequency, we'd not only lose our lock, but anyone inside the bridge would be dead or worse before we could retrieve them," she said. She put her head down into the cradle of her arms and rested them on the workbench. "I need my snookie-bear…"

The twins looked at each other helplessly as Justine Flanner—known in Mensa chapters throughout North America, Japan, and certain parts of the European Union as "The White-Bread Bitch Goddess from Hell"—began to sob like a little girl.

**RSVP**

Karen picked up the ornate brassiere and considered the glittering array of fake gems and gold scrollwork that covered every exposed centimeter of its surface. Then she contemplated its size and the depth of its décolleté. "Isn't this at least a size too small?" she asked her roommate. "I mean it's going to push you up and squeeze your puppies until you'll be bulging and practically erupting out of your top!"

Amelia nodded as she stitched away on the hip-girdle of her costume. "My cups runneth over," she said with a grin.

The girl in blue took in Amelia's hand-stitched belly dancing attire and shook her head. "I don't know if those lessons are paying off, A, but most men I know would be happy enough just to watch you stand around in this outfit. If you've learned how to shake the goods on top of this, he's going to be devastated. Man oh man, Ron Stoppable is one lucky dude!"

Amelia paused as she pulled her needle through the tiny hole in another gold coin. "Who?"

**RSVP**

Everyone's head—everyone in the room that was conscious, that is—whipped about, toward the sound of the new voice even before the last "l" in "hell" died away. Heather and Britina particularly felt as though they were suffering the effects of whiplash as a slightly older Kim Possible strode through the doorway. She was shadowed by another mature and even more buxom Kim Possible shadowing her from behind.

"What happened to my partner!" Anne Possible cried. She rushed over to embrace him, stopping only at the last minute as she saw the burns that festooned his arms and torso. She knew that touching him would only cause more pain and increase the likelihood of infection, but it took a great act of willpower, even so, to refrain from holding him.

Jocelyn Possible had entered the room totally focused on her aunt but now she stood beside her, her only thoughts for the boy she had spent the last two-and-a-half calendar years crushing on. "Is anything being done?" she asked. "Is the ambulance on its way?"

Heather and Britina slowly turned and looked at each other with widened eyes. "I-I don't understand…" the platinum pop star stammered. Heather began to smile and Britina grabbed her and shook her. "What? What does it mean?"

The redheaded movie star shrugged. "I'm not really sure…but I do know one thing…"

"What?"

"Lindsey Lohan was huge after playing twin redheads in a Disney remake. She was so successful that it took years of criminal behavior, public drunkenness, and professional unreliability to undo all of the goodwill that one movie created for her. Can you imagine what it would mean for my career to do the same thing?"

"You want to do another remake of _The Parent Trap_?"

"Jeez, Brit, try to keep up. I'm talking about playing two Kim Possibles in the same movie!

**RSVP**

"Soooo," Ron was sitting on the bed next to Shego and rubbing the back of his head again. "I thought, well, as many times as I've gone inside you—"

She shot him a dangerous look that he missed entirely as he still avoiding looking directly into her eyes.

"—I'd be able to find you right away. But I've been wandering around a little longer than I expected—opening doors—so _many_ doors!"

"Did you bother knocking on any of those other doors first? Or was mine the first one ya barged into without observing the social amenities and personal boundaries?" she sniped.

"Uh, well…" He swallowed nervously and Shego felt her ire melt sufficiently that she had to hide a little smile. "…I thought that you might be in trouble. And, in fact, it looked like you _were_ in trouble! Though there was something about that guy who just disappeared…but I got here just in time it looked like…except it looked like you made the handcuffs go away yourself…which makes sense because we're really inside _your_ own mind and so I guess you always had the power to get away to begin with…so maybe you _didn't_ need rescuing after all and you were just waiting for the right moment…although it did look like you were _really_ running out of time when I opened the door…unless you had some kind of plan I can't figure out here…because…why am I still talking? I just can't seem to stop talking!"

"Ron," she said, grabbing his face and pinching his lips shut. "Stop _thinking!_ If you'll stop thinking, I think you'll find it a lot easier to stop talking!"

"E bo no ats naw twu!" he said around her fingers.

"Well then focus on this," she said, pulling his face closer: "What happens in Shego's head, stays in Shego's head. Okay?"

He nodded enthusiastically, his eyes suddenly grateful.

"Oh, hell," she said, releasing his lips with her fingers and recapturing them with her own lips.

Totally off balance, he offered no resistance as generous green goodness pushed him back on the rumpled mattress.

**RSVP**

_All dressed up and no place to go, _Amelia thought as she studied her reflection in the full length mirror on her closet door.

In between the gold fringe that dangled from the underside of her bra and the wide golden belt encircled her hips lay a vast expanse of tanned flesh that dimpled around the purple amethyst set deep into her navel. Her long legs glimmered behind the diaphanous skirt that fell from her jeweled girdle.

Moving her arms in a graceful serpentine, she arched her back and began to move her left hip as if keeping time to an invisible drum. She was almost ready, she thought.

Right now she could go out and dance and have almost any man fall at her feet.

But that wasn't good enough.

She needed to be perfect.

For _him_.

She knew in her heart of hearts that she was not yet worthy of _him_.

But soon.

Amelia just had to figure out who "he" was…

**RSVP**

Shego rolled onto her back, still panting and slick with sweat. Over the years she had perfected her solo techniques with nine inches of sculpted plastic encasing dual motors with adjustable intensity and directional controls. She had never, however, suspected that she was in the least bit _multi-_orgasmic. Were she not already naked, she suspected that her socks would have ended up all the way across the room and embedded in the wall.

She lay there for several minutes, waiting for a response, a sentence, a single word from her bed partner to tell her what he was thinking.

There was no doubt in her mind that he had enjoyed it.

She was nothing if not secure in her own prowess as a lover—though she had surprised even herself in this outing. But she had never felt such anxiety over a lover's expectations as she felt now in the afterglow of what could only be described as wild and crazy monkey sex.

She turned on her side and found herself a little disconcerted by the sight of the man she was falling in love with, staring up at the ceiling with a pensive expression.

"Ronnie? What's wrong?"

"There's no ceiling," he answered. "Where's the ceiling?"

"Silly boy," she teased, "inside my head, remember?"

"Yeah. About that. I know that what we just did…we didn't really do…because…"

"…we did it inside my head," she finished for him.

"Right. So, it didn't really happen…"

She opened her mouth to argue that point with him and then wisely closed it again without interrupting.

"But it sorta did, at the same time," he continued. "So, I feel like I still used you."

Shego's eyes almost popped out of her head.

"I tried to justify it by thinking of it as an intellectual fantasy. I mean, I'm only human. You're gorgeous. I have needs. You didn't seem to object…"

"You _used_ me?" Even inside of her own head her voice was loud enough to make her wince. "I didn't SEEM to object?"

He looked at her now and his face looked like it was ready to fall apart. "Oh my God! I guess I _really_ raped you, didn't I? And—and it's worse because I did it inside your own mind! I'm—I'm a monster! I'm turning into somethi—"

The hand she clapped over his mouth stopped his words but they didn't stop his thoughts. Seeing his eyes fill up with pain and regret, she rolled on top of him and pulled his head up to her breasts. "Oh you poor, poor idiot! _I'm_ the one who attacked _you_, remember? Like you said before we stopped using our mouths for talking: _my_ head, _my_ rules!

"I _wanted you!_" she continued_._ "I _wanted you!_ I just couldn't figure out how to make it happen _outside_ of my own head. If this _isn't_ real, then I want to try it again, _outside_ in the so-called real world and find out if your body can do to my body what your mind just did to my mind! And if this _is_ real—then I want it all the _more_ out there.

"Don't you understand?" she continued. "This wasn't too much! This wasn't _enough!_ And now I want you more than ever! Do you know what this will do to me if you close me out, now?"

He sighed. "I-I can't. You're an incredible woman, Sheila. I don't deserve someone as amazing as you. And you deserve _better_ than me. You should have someone who isn't dead inside. Someone who can give back every ounce of passion that you pour out on them—not a guy who's insecure and lost and still in love with his dead wife—"

She put a finger to his lips. "You need time? Fine. I can be patient for some kind of future down the road. But I'm not losing my place in line." She smiled. "I'm not going away and I'm not going quietly. You hear?"

He looked away for a moment. And then, slowly, he began to smile. It was a sad smile, full of regret and focused on a distant, fleeting hope. "Don't worry, Sheila. Like you said: what happens in here, _stays_ in here. But not for much longer. In a little while we'll be going back out into the real—as you call it—world." He sighed and sat up. "But you won't remember this so it won't haunt you. I want you to _forget_, again. You'll be happier if you're not pinning any hopes or dreams on me. You'll _forget_ me now, just like you did the last time. And I—"

This time it was her hand around his throat that stopped his words.

"_You!_ It was you who messed with my memory!" she roared.

"You—ah—know about that?" he choked out as she relaxed her grip.

"I figured out that something—or someone—had altered my memories. Mostly it was stuff related to you. It wasn't hard to piece together, after all: Global Justice assigned me to you and I have copies of your files. Working for you as your Chief of Security doubled down on all those opportunities to realize that there were gaps in my thinking and my memories so I went back an re-read your files. When I followed up with Bet—Dr. Director, it became clear that her memories had been tampered with, as well…

"Damn, Stoppable," she said softly. "How many? How many of us have you messed with? And what are you trying to hide?"

"Me." He closed his eyes. "People who care about me get hurt. People who love me end up dead. I can't—I can't be responsible for that."

"Of course you can't," she told him. She moved to sit beside him. "We're all responsible for our own feelings. If somebody cares about you, that isn't a burden for you to bear. And if somebody is hurt on your behalf, that's not your fault. Unless you are the one doing the hurting. Ronnie, if something were to happen to me because the bad guys wanted to hurt you that would be their fault, not yours. But if you were to shut me out because you wanted to protect me? That would hurt me more than anything." Her face hardened. "You might as well pick that whip up off the floor and use it on me now."

Somewhere down deep in Ron's psyche a lunatic giggle echoed. _Pick up the whip and call her bluff,_ Zorpox whispered.

Ron jumped out off the bed. "No!" he cried. He flung open the door and ran out into darkness.

Shego stared after him, a welter of emotions churning in her heart and head. Finally she sighed and slowly got up. "I guess it's time to go…"

**RSVP**

Her eyes fluttered and she found herself lying down again. What? She was wet and dressed only in her bra and panties.

And she had an audience!

Shego sat bolt upright, forgetting for a moment, that she had sustained some nasty burns in the fight with her mysterious double. As she threw one arm across her chest and dropped her other hand down to shield her modesty, she remembered. Surprisingly, she was pain free!

Then she looked to her right and saw that Ron Stoppable had served as her pillow while she was unconscious. Instead of preceding her out of the gestalt, he was still unconscious and seated in the lotus position. And now she saw the burns—_her_ burns—marring the surface of his own skin.

He sighed. It was a quiet sound of resignation and surrender. And then he slowly toppled backwards into the arms of Vivian Porter who held him now like the Madonna in Michelangelo's _La Pieta_.

The blonde scientist glared up at brunette. "What did you do?" she demanded quietly.

"Oh my God," Shego whispered. "I think I broke Ron Stoppable!"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Aside from being a significant line for Ron in the KP episode <strong>**_So The Drama_****, "Out There, In Here" works as a chapter title as we spend time both inside Shego's head and outside in the real world.**

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><p><strong>AN 2:**

_**I hate to beg for reviews so I won't. Instead a threat: Read & Review or Shego enters a nunnery. I have a word processor and I'm not afraid to use it…**_

_**And, c'mon! Nobody noticed my riff on the old saying, "Knock your socks off"?**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 5<strong>

_**Here are the reviews that were posted back when this was Chapter 47 of the Original RSVP file, followed by the ones that came after:**_

_Hero Knil  
>2011-10-30 . chapter 5<em>

Shego in a Nun outfit... Great now that image is stuck in my head. Great chapter and a breif mention of Zorpox. I love when Zorpox is mentioned after a big event. Makes me think that there is some chance he might start bleeding through. ^ u^

**_Expect both down the road—Zorpox AND bleeding, that is. Don't know if I can manage Shego in a nun's habit, though…we'll see. R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73<br>2011-10-30 . chapter 5_

Shego is a woman with many pieces of a very large puzzle to be put together. And she has a very vivid imagination too...

Poor Ron, whatever he tries to do to 'make things right' just cause more troubles. If he only understood what Shego and 'Rufus' was trying to tell him, he wouldn't have this much trouble.

And then there's what he may have to do to 'save' Kim.

CB73

**_Or have Kim "save" him? R~13_**

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><p><em>pbow<br>2011-10-31 . chapter 5_

As much fun as seeinng Shego in a nunnery would be, I can't let that happen. (What a great story idea!)

Personally, I think you have too many girls interacting with Ron. It's getting confusing (for me at least) and messing with Ron if he's doing Shego in her mind. This Cecil B DeMille sized story has too much to keep track of. (Again, at least for me.) But keep slugging away at it. I'll read, and re-read previous chapters to try and keep up.

As for your initial question at the top of the chapter: I don't think it matters either way if you decide to divide it into two or twenty story arcs or keep it as a single, long one. If the reader likes the story they'll find it one way or the other. So it's entirely up to you. (A story called Kironbon is now up to chapter 200 and something so length shouldn't be an issue. Quality is the main concern of any story.)

Keep up the excellent story telling.

Pbow

**_Well, as you know by now, I've split this thing and there may end up being 4 parts instead of 3. While I do give you permission to take the "Shego in a nunnery" idea and run with it I'm now planning a couple of cosplay scenes where the costume will come into play. Along with some other interesting costume choices…but don't look for it anytime soon._**

**_As for keeping track of the girls, just pretend you're Ron—he can't keep track of them, either. And thanks for the votes of confidence! Without a paycheck, we're ultimately paid in the responses from our readers. Especially if they're writers, as well. R~13_**

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><p><em>Pavelius<br>2011-10-31 . chapter 5_

I think Shego would burn down the nunnery 5 minutes after joining it...

Anyway, really funny chapter, especially the first part... Ron has really got a talent for making things go boom ...

Some sprinkles of story development towards the end... what else you need for a good chapter?

Anyway, keep it up and dont "torture" Shego to much

Pavel

**_Too much? Oh, I've only just begun. In so many ways Ron has to be even more annoying to Shego than Drakken. And, yet, she can't seem to leave. Yet… R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow<br>2011-10-31 . chapter 5_

nunnery nunnery nunnery nunnery

on the other hand fun chapter

**_Sings: "How do you solve a problem like Sister Shego…" Or, instead of _****The Sound of Music****_, how about _****The Frying Nun****_? R~13_**

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><p><em>Grin-Grin<br>2011-11-02 . chapter 5_

I'm surprised no one made the joke yet, so here goes. . .

"Get thee to a nunnery!"

Maybe it will help Ron realize what's going on in his life?

**_Ah, _****Hamlet****_… Did you know that that specific line is one of Shakespeare's double entendres? Hamlet is telling Ophelia to go to a nunnery so as not to give birth to sinful children such as himself. But there was also a famous brothel in the bard's time known as the "Nunnery" so… R~13_**

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><p><em>TheJBE<br>2011-11-16 . chapter 5_

Great work. Been following you from Book I over the last week and you seem to draw an interesting parrallel between Ron's innate love for everyone and his insecurity about their fates.

**_Ah, our Ronnie is a mixed bag of paradoxes and contradictions. And wait till Zorpox starts acting up in the mix… R~13_**

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><p><em>jagaer<br>2011-11-20 . chapter 5_

Please move the story forward. It has been so long since the last chapter. I really am enjoying your story

**Working on it, J. Your review helps push me along! R~13**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 38/12 . chapter 5_

A little bit of drama for Ron, and Shego, here.

But it looks like a mental Easter Egg hunt's about to begin as Ron 'runs away' again.

CB73

_**Happy Easter! R~13**_

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><p><em>BicolourRaptor 38/12 . chapter 5_

good chapter cant wait for the next one sorry about not reviewing im just lazy

_**Welcome aboard and thanks for dropping a line. When the readers get too quiet I lose my muse, slow down, or just start killing off more characters. Or I just get lazy… ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 38/12 . chapter 5_

Oh a nunnery huh, I could give you the silent treatment just to see if you'd do that. LOL Anyway you've already used that plot device.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**Hey, I'm a "green" writer: I recycle… ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox<em>_ 7/23/13 . chapter 5 _

Heh, DiNutso. I think yours is the first fic where I can recall the usage of Gough. Ah yes, "Out there, In here" from "So the Drama". I as much as I like "So the Drama" which was better than "A Sitch in Time" I have a hard time considering it canon. There are a few things in it that disagree with the series. 1) If Ron hates jumping from planes, then why did he relish it in the "movie"? 2) Drakken had a decent plan to take over the world and to stop KP, but in the series, he keeps coming up with lame plans. BTW: This was one weird chapter.

**_Actually, I was just writing about the issue of FanFiction "canon" at the end of chapter 8. You know, the kind of stuff that crops up so often in the stories here that you think its part of the series canon but may not necessarily be anything more than a few stories running with the same idea. Like Tara being Bonnie's best friend. That shows up in a lot of stories but was that ever really established in the original show? Not that it needed to be, we're all free to grab the ball and run with it. But I'm interested in what FanFiction has created as "canon" as opposed to actual canon. I find that fascinating._**

**_Oh, and you ain't seen weird, yet! (But you will. And soon!) R~13_**

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><p><em>gjin19 82/13 . chapter 5_

I didn't really like the fact Ron stole Shego's injuries. How much harder would it be to make her heal a thousand or more times faster or just make it so that she was never wounded in the first place? The way it is, it seems too much like showing off, especially with all those exclamations in the background. I wouldn't even mind the stealing if, instead of appearing on his skin, which was conveniently exposed, the damage appeared somewhere else, like say his aura or something. Wouldn't it be more heroic? He helps his friend, gets hurt doing it and tries not to worry them by not showing in just how much pain he actually is.

That aside, it's an interesting story. There is drama, adventure, romance, humor, a little bit too much angst for my tastes, but it seems less pronounced than in the beginning. Overall, I like where it is going.

About Shego though. So, she likes being whipped? Kinky )

**_Ah, the Mystical Magical Monkey Power! It is absent in some stories and gives Ron god-like powers in others. The rest of us authors float around, in-between, trying to figure out what the rules really should be. As for my take: over a year has passed since Ron levitated and threw a pair of giant aliens into the sky, essentially ending the Lowardian invasion. After that, how do you dial it back down? Of course, a being with god-like powers isn't interesting for very long and solving all of your "problems" with some sort of mystical, Get out Of Jail Free Card, means there's very little risk or danger. And without risk or danger or the potential of loss or even death, stories and protagonists cease to be interesting real quick. It would be kind of like writing a story where all of these women are crushing on Ron and he jumps into bed with all of them, instantly scratching all of those hormonal itches. Even the most jaded palatte would only find that interesting for a chapter or so and then it just becomes mind-numbing drudgery... _**

**_Not sayin' that Ron will continue to live like a castrated monk forever...but...I digress._**

**_For all that Ron has "advanced" in his potential, he still has very little training and his title as "Master" of the Mystical Monkey Power has more to do with the fact that no one else (now alive) has inherited the power from the mystical monkey idols as opposed to the term "master" in the sense of one who has spent years of study and self discipline in achieving the skills and strengths necessary to rise above all others who follow this path. So, using the MMP for healing, battle, or what-have-you will continue to be a work-in-progress for some time to come. I don't think that Ron had a well thought out plan when he did the meld with Shego, he just knew that she was hurt and he was in a hurry to see if he could do something before her burns caused more damage. Knowing Ron at this point, showing off was the last thing on his mind. The aura thing is an interesting idea and something he might start working toward for future situations. Sentinel103's comments last chapter seemed to suggest that he liked the idea of stealing injuries. Reader feadback always presents me with some new perspectives on how the story might be told-especially since you all bring such differing points of view to the table._**

**_As for angsty? I hope it's getting better now. But, given all the trauma and drama over the past year for Ron, it's highly unlikely that he can brush it all off quickly. Everyone seems to love the dark, broody, quiet heroes but nobody wants to see why they're all dark and broody and quiet. Think the original Star Wars Trilogy-or The Lord of the Rings trilogy: the Middle Act is usually the darkest before things get sorted out in the Third Act. Although the first half of the 3rd act can be pretty grim, too. In this case, we may have seen the darkest stuff early in Act I. Still there will be more miles of bumpy road before we end our journey. _**

**_And Shego being kinky? Yeah. I think so. But I'm not so sure that Tara doesn't have her beat... (It's the quiet ones that you have to look out for)_**

**_;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 830/13 . chapter 5 _

This depressing Ron is getting on my nerves. I know you're doing it for a reason (whatever that reason may be I have no clue), I just wish you'd hurry it up already. But judging from one of those reviews you respond to, you may be keeping him depressed so that Yori, or more likely Kim, can save him.

Anyway, rant over.. on to the next chapter!

**_Don't worry so much about the "destination", Dude; just enjoy the ride as it all unfolds...or falls apart... R~13_**

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><p><em>Laserai chapter 5 . 731/14 _

So it seems Shego continues to go forward with her love conquest with unrelenting enthusiasm. In fact, she is even able to go all the way with him even if its in her mindscape with him. Ron still is hesitant even after having nothing short of mindblowing sex with her. Likely due to what he still perceives to be a recent loss of his wife and child along with his parents and everything else going on with him. The fact that he hasn't cracked up or going psychotic is a testament to his character strength. Still its quite understandable he is reluctant to start another deep relationship with some else just yet even despite the fact there are many suitors including the emerald goddess, Shego.

_**Word! R~13**_


	6. Code Blue

**Author's Notes: **_**Thank you all for your responses! I originally produced this chapter while recovering from eye surgery and trying to juggle other writing obligations. However, your pleas for more story moved me to squeeze out another chapter! (See what the power of reviews can accomplish?)**_

_**7/31/14 - Just got back from seeing Guardians of the Galaxy and I feel so bad...for the new Star Wars movie, that is! J.J. Abrams just got (pre) served!**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ Still no rights—financial, creative. etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…_

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><p><strong>Chapter Six – Code Blue<strong>

"What do you mean: you 'broke' my boyfriend?" Anne Possible asked ominously, cracking her glove-sheathed knuckles.

Shego barely heard the question, gazing anxiously down at Ron's face, his head now resting upon Vivian Porter's tanned but smooth thighs. "I was angry," she said faintly. "But just for a moment. And I wouldn't have hurt him…"

"Oh, no!" the former neurosurgeon said sarcastically. "You'd _never_ hurt poor Ronnie! Those old burn scars must have been from some _other_ Shego's plasma bursts!"

"Uh, funny you should mention it…" Monique began.

Shego's head came back up. "That's not fair," she snapped. "That was a different time and we were all different people back then."

"Then what did you mean when you said that you _broke_ my boyfriend? And why are you practically naked? And wet? I can _see_ your lady-parts! I don't want _my boyfriend_ looking at your lady-parts!"

Shego was frightened. On some level she actually believed that she had damaged Ron in some way. The expression on his face just before he turned and disappeared inside her head—it was as if he was suddenly terrified! _Had she done that? Was intimacy with her such a frightening ordeal that she had damaged his psyche?_ Guilt and fear had always triggered her number-one defense mechanism: anger.

And it didn't fail her now.

"Too bad, Possible," she snapped back. "Ronnie's already seen my lady-parts and he's done more than just _look!_"

Anne Possible took a nervous step back. "Wh-what are you insinuating? My boyfri—"

"_Stop_ calling him your boyfriend!" Shego roared. "When was the last time he got to second base with you?"

Anne's mouth dropped open.

Heather's and Britina's followed suit and they exchanged looks that said: _holy crap, what have we wandered into?_

Followed by: _wild horses couldn't drag me out of this room if they tried!_

Monique felt as if she should be checking the first-aid kit for extra burn ointment right now but couldn't bear to look away.

Vivian reached down to stroke Ron's brow but froze as both Shego and Anne shot her a glance fraught with menace.

"My _boyfriend's_ baseball stats are none of your business!" Anne huffed, still in Kim Possible mode.

"You don't _remember!_" Shego accused. "You may have fantasized about his oversized hands on your pointy, undersized tits, but you don't actually remember because it's _never happened!_"

In point of fact, Shego was correct as Anne (while believing that she _was_ Kimmie) hadn't had an actual physical relationship with her imaginary boyfriend._ (That one, brief, surprise bedroom visit didn't count as Anne had done all of the groping and Ron had practically levitated out of his bed as soon as he woke up.)_

And whatever may have actually occurred between young Mr. Stoppable and the real Kim Possible is a subject for speculation at a much different time…

But Shego was being disingenuous about Anne's assets: her breasts were hardly undersized and not the least bit pointy. And even the real Kim had matured nicely in the year following their high school graduation.

Still, she was mad, and if she was holding back on the plasma, she was making up for it with wordage.

Anne, however, was not cowed. "What bases, Ron may or may not have reached is still none of your affair, Shego, because you're stuck in the dugout and not _ever_ getting a turn at bat!"

"Wrong again, Princess!" _God, how easily the old, snarky insults transferred to the elder Possible when she was subbing so convincingly for her daughter._ "Ron's not only rounded all of my bases…" _in my head, _she thought_,_ "…but scored a game-winning touchdown here in the last quarter!"

"Wait," Joss asked, shaking her head, "are we doing football or baseball metaphors, now? Because, second base is like a hand job or using your fingers to—"

"Ewwww," Anne said, "no. Second base is like making out with a boy's hands up your shir—"

"Depends on whether we're talking Major or Minor League, girl," Monique qualified.

"What?"

The black girl sighed. "Baseball metaphors for sex fall into two divisions: Major League and Minor League."

"Then what's first base?" Dr. Porter asked as she shifted her legs a bit.

"Minor League? Basic making out with hands in bounds. Major League? Making out with groping and feeling up."

"And home plate?" the roboticist asked. Looking down she discovered that Ron had rolled to the side a bit with his face scant inches from her own lady-parts. She quickly rearranged him as Monique answered: "Sex."

"So, what's second base?" Anne wanted to know.

"And third?" Joss asked breathlessly.

"Second base," Britina answered, "is feeling a girl up…"

"Or a boy down," Heather added.

"In the Minor Leagues," they both finished.

"The Majors involve the hands taking a more active role," a new voice chimed in. Tara was standing in the doorway. "And, of course, you substitute the mouth for the hands when you get to third base," the angelic platinum blonde added.

"So…third base in the Minors…"

"Jeez, Anne! Who cares about the Minors?" Joss moaned.

"Well, I, for one, am shocked!" Monique exclaimed. "Baby girl," she said to Tara who was lugging a rolling med-kit into the room, "I cannot believe that you are so knowledgeable about…_baseball!_"

Tara smiled shyly. "You should see my fantasy-league stats." Her eyes snapped to Ron's unconscious form…

…that had somehow rolled back toward Vivian's _batting cage_.

"What have we got here?" she asked professionally.

**RSVP**

The real Kim Possible was fighting a case of the shakes.

First of all, it was cold and wet in the drainage pipes leading to the sewer-line a block away.

A block's distance for a normal-sized human, that is. Barely four inches tall, she was crawling on her hands and knees so the distance was much greater on a proportional scale. The gunk made every inch a hard-fought misery.

Added to her discomfort was the claustrophobia that came with the uncertainty of unseen obstacles or how much narrower the pipes might become before she could find her way back out. This wasn't the same as crawling through HVAC ductwork that was clean and dry and could be kicked open in an emergency. There was very little chance of drowning or encountering giant critters in ordinary ductwork. Mego's borrowed shrink-abilities had size limits and she was already at the smallest she could make herself. Down here there was no need to maintain her Shego-appearance so she let go of Camille Leon's shape-shifting abilities that were stored in the Gem of Aviarius and focused all her will on keeping herself small and, more importantly, _sane_ until she could find a larger way up and out.

That _Voice…_

She shivered again as she recalled the words that had pierced her heart and mind and her very soul…

_**Listen to me…**_

…_**Ron Stoppable is not here**_**, **_**Ron Stoppable is gone.**_

_**He's gone and he won't be back. Do you understand?**_**"**

_**And **_**you**_** won't be back, either!**_

_**This is a place that you—or any of your friends—will never want to visit!**_

_**EVER!**_

An icy blue chill had swept over her…_swept through her…_as that awful, soul-piercing voice had pronounced that damnable prophecy!

_She could NOT go back there!_

_She could NEVER go back there—even should her life depend on it!_

But…

Even if _The Voice_ had lied…

Even if Ron Stoppable was _not_ gone…

Even if Ron Stoppable was _there,_ after all…

_She_ need not return.

There were _those_ that she could _turn_…

There were _those_ that she could _send_ in her stead…

And there were ways to _draw him out_ from wherever he might be hiding…

Oh, yes…

There were many _ways…_

**RSVP**

Bonnie Rockwaller sat on the bench and watched as Upperton University's varsity cheerleaders practiced their newest routines for the next big basketball game. As the newest of the four alternates, she was hardly ever called out onto the floor to work with the others. Now she knew how Maggie and Linda felt, she thought, and they'd enjoyed far more floor time than even the most senior of the Upperton alternates.

So she was surprised when Angela came over and sat beside her as the others took a short break.

"How's it going, Roc—Bonnie?" the U.U. cheer captain asked.

Bonnie was so surprised that the snotty senior had sat down by her—much less deigned to speak to her—that she couldn't find her voice for a moment.

"Uh…fine…?" she managed after an embarrassing pause.

"Must be frustrating for you…" the older girl offered, gazing out at the rest of the varsity squad.

Again, a pause while Bonnie tried to decipher the other woman's words.

"I mean," Angela continued, "all those years on high school varsity—cheer captain, in fact…"

_Co-captain,_ corrected the voice in her head before she shushed it.

"…and now here you sit on the sidelines while girls with less talent and experience take up all the slots so that you'll stay an alternate until your Junior year."

Bonnie stared at her face, sifted the tone of her words, looking for any evidence of snark. She couldn't find it.

"All the hours you put in: showing up for practice, showing up for games—all the catch-up that has to go into making up the study sessions and the homework…" Angela shot her a sideways look. "All the time away from your boyfriend…"

A light went on in the back of Bonnie's head. _Oh my god! She wants me to drop off the squad! It's the old, I-understand-why-you-wouldn't-want-to-keep-doing-t his-and-no-one-will-blame-you speech!_

"I've given this a lot of thought," the captain said, continuing, "and I think I know how to fix it so that everyone's happy."

_Yeah, sure! Everyone but me! Well, if she's going to shove me out the door then I have a few choice things to say on my way—_

"I've already run this by the other seniors and co-captains and they all agree that our current numbers—nine women and three men—would work better if we could change the ratio to ten and four. We'd need an extra girl and an extra guy. That would enable us to expand some of our routines and do some really spectacular stuff!" Angela reached out and touched Bonnie's hand. "That extra girl could be you, Bonnie!"

Bonnie had already opened her mouth to deliver the patented Rockwaller _coup de grâce_ when she realized that varsity captain was offering her a way _in_, instead of _out_. "I—uh—don't understand. You're talking about opening up one varsity slot and there are three alternates ahead of me."

"Well, it's not one slot but two that we're talking about," Angela explained, looking away again and studying the other cheerleaders out on the floor. Bonnie followed her eyes and, for a moment, it seemed as if the other cheerleaders were studying them, as well.

"We need a guy and a girl to make this work," she continued. "And guys with actual cheerleading experience are hard to find."

Bonnie nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I can see that."

"And yet, you managed for your squad back at Middleton High," Angela said, all smiles now. "So, if you could recruit him, that would solve the problem of finding a guy who's got prior experience with cheerleading AND it would remove any objection to you filling the other slot." She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially: "And you would be able to spend more time with your boyfriend!"

Bonnie's mouth dropped open. "Wait! What? Wait! Who? What boyfriend? Middleton never had any guy cheerleaders!"

Angela waved a hand dismissively. "Semantics. The Mad Dog mascot was the closest a guy could get to being a cheerleader. And everyone knows he has mad skills! What's the matter, Bonnie? Don't you want your boyfriend on the squad with you?"

Bonnie's eyes bugged out. "What? Wait! What?"

**RSVP**

Shaula Lesath updated her mission notes via cerebral implant as she observed the drama that continued to unfold in the warehouse food preparation space.

She lacked data on the Earthian mating rituals and how her target was aligned with the various females in his proximity. Her initial information suggested that a majority of these aliens settled into pairs for reproductive purposes but additional data (downloaded from their worldwideweb) suggested various "hookups" and interfacing arrangements were not unheard of.

The Ron Stoppable, however, seemed to be forming the Earthian equivalent of an Uptopian _q'roon_. The main differences being that _q'roons_ were formed around a single female with multiple male partners. And those male partners in a q'roon rarely exceeded three and never more than five.

Exactly who and how many were to be counted in the Stoppable q'roon was yet to be precisely determined.

In this room, alone, there were eight female potentials. He had already performed kh'sta fusion with the one who was akin in both color and temperament to a Lowardian female shocktrooper. What separated the one called Shego from those vicious alien conquerors were her diminutive size and her submission to the Stoppable.

The blonde scientist who cradled the Stoppable's head seemed receptive to fusion but might be only kept in a looser gestalt for her technical skills in assisting the q'roon. Likewise the other blonde woman with medical expertise who was currently monitoring the unconscious man's vitals.

She was unsure of the status of the other three women who she had previously observed interacting with the Stoppable in a friendly manner. He had treated the two redheaded women who both bore the name Possible with a careful degree of mild reserve while showing more solicitude toward the dark one named Monique. It might have been chalked up to her injury but Captain Lesath did not think that was entirely the case. There was something a little off about the Possibles while she could pick up on a greater warmth—in both directions—between the Stoppable and the girl in the cast.

As for the new arrivals, another redhead and a blonde wearing a brunette wig, the Uptopian spy had no idea. They had not been at the party with the other potentials. Were they applicants? If so, that would complicate the data.

Perhaps she should divert some of her resources from the target and task them to secondary reconnaissance of the Stoppable's minions…

**RSVP**

He was running, looking for a way out.

He couldn't remember which way he came in.

_Slow down_, an inner voice told him. _Don't panic._

He slowed his pace to a walk, acknowledging the wisdom of the inner voice.

_Rest a bit and relax so that you can think clearly_, came the advice.

"Good idea," Ron said. "Maybe there's someplace to sit—"

_Make a chair for yourself_, the voice counseled. _Use the power of your mind._

Ron hesitated. "Using those powers seem to have gotten me into a lot of trouble, lately."

_You were using your mental powers to affect others, not create an inanimate object. No one's going to get mad if you make a mental chair for yourself._

"Stands to reason," Ron decided after a moment.

_You'll do better if you_ sit _to reason. Go on, take a load off._

A chair materialized in the darkness and, after another moment, Ron sat down carefully, waiting to see if it was solid enough to hold him.

It did, and the hard metal seat had an uncomfortable rigidity beneath his buttocks.

_With great power comes great responsibility…_

"'Spiderman', right?" Ron guessed. "My personal motto is: Never be normal."

_Both philosophies embrace the same principles,_ the voice said. _You have great power, therefore you can never be…normal. What you must do is learn to use your power wisely. Because—make no mistake about it—power will be used. You cannot deny it or long suppress it. It leaks from you when you are distracted. It affects everything around you even when you are not trying. You must learn to master your powers or they will master you._

"And how do I do that?" Ron asked.

_Well, first of all, you've got to stop suppressing your abilities. The more you exercise your gifts, the more control you'll acquire in the process._

The hard, metal folding-chair suddenly transformed into a soft, cushy recliner: Ron's feet went up and his head went back.

"Whoa! Dude! How'd you do that?"

We_ did that by harnessing the powers of _our_ mind. _I_ am _you_. Your higher consciousness. The self-aware aspect of your chi._

"Awesome."

_On the scale of your abilities, Potential Boy, a mental construct of a recliner is hardly awesome. But it is a step along the road to mental mastery. If you will but allow me to mentor you, I will help you to hone your mystical monkey powers and become the master of all things within your sphere of influence._

"Um, yeah. When you say 'master' are we talking about a spiritual kind of thing like becoming another Sensei? Or are we getting into the Drakken/Dementor world domination thingie?"

_Ronald, mastery is simply the ability to have control over one's self and one's surroundings. If you want to take over the world, that possibility is certainly open for you to explore. But you're not that kind of a guy. So you may become a master of only those things that you wish. Control begins and ends with you, yourself. Are you afraid of exploring your potential?_

"It's just that we studied this Lord Action who said that power is a bad thing…"

_John Emerich Edward Dalberg Acton, first Baron Acton. He said that 'power corrupts' and that 'absolute power corrupts absolutely.'_

"Yeah, that's the one."

_He was right, of course. But he was speaking of unbridled power. As I said before, you must either master your powers or they will master you. You must learn to control your gifts. When you have full mastery, then only good will come from their free exercise._

"What about using my MMP on other people? Rufus said it was putting me on the path to villainy."

_That's because you were using it to take away their free will. If you use your powers to give them what they want—how can that be a bad thing?_

"So I should use my MMP to give people what they want?"

_Hold on, Santa Claus! Baby steps first. Let me guide you in your use and development of your gifts so you can have mastery over them, over yourself, and over those things that are yours to command._

"But what about the people around me?"

_Let me help you with them, too. I know that you're anxious about the women who have drawn closer to you lately…_

"I don't want to hurt anybody."

_Of course not. And they understand that. But didn't Rufus tell you that you needed to open your heart and learn to love again?_

"Yeah…and how do I do that without becoming...um...Love's bitch?"

_Let me help you with that, as well. The leakage of your MMP has ignited the feelings of those around you. Your clumsy attempts to fix that sitch by repressing their memories was the wrong way to go about dealing with their emotions. This will require more hands-on, one-on-one time to undo._

"But I don't know how to undo-do!"

_I can handle that for you. It's like your ninja training at Yamanouchi: release your consciousness and let the way flow from within. I will be the way. Release me to flow in the paths that your conscious mind would normally flow and I will make the decisions that will set your feet on the higher paths._

"Well, I guess I gotta do something. Shego's ready to kill me. And if the others start to remember, a plasma bath may be the least of my worries!"

_You let me worry about Shego. And the others. Just relax. Close your eyes. We'll begin by erasing the injuries that you've pulled from her body into your own. And then we'll begin the process of damage control with your…associates. Sleep now. And when you awaken, you'll be back in your own body._

"'Kay…"

It was only seconds after he had closed his eyes that Ron Stoppable began to fade away. In just a matter of seconds he was gone.

The recliner, however, remained behind.

After another minute, Ron Stoppable walked out of the darkness and pulled the lever on its side to return the chair to the upright position. Then he sat down in it. Leaning back, he put his arms up and behind his neck to cradle his head. _Spanking_, he said in a now familiar voice. His mouth curled into a smile on his blue-toned features. _If I play my cards right…if _we_ play our cards right: we will become Ron Unstoppable!_ _Ah-boo-ya-ha-ha-ha_, he giggled.

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "Code Blue" is the in-house code to summon a "crash" team for a heart attack. Well Zorpox is blue and is as dangerous as a heart attack.<strong>

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 6<strong>

**The first three were posted when this was chapter 48 of the original RSVP storyfile.**

_jagaer_  
><em>2011-11-23 . chapter 48<em>

Interesting Zorpox appears. So what other aspects of Ron do we get to see. Does he master his powers or do they master him. I wonder if the guiding voice is Zorpox tricking Ron so he can dominate. Ah, hope you have time for further development. If not we wait.

**_Things will develop—but there is a lot going on so look for some developments to appear very slowly. R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73<em>_  
><em>_2011-11-24 . chapter 48_

Ron's martyr complex, mixed in with the pain he's been trying to avoid confronting and dealing with may just give his 'alter ego' the leverage needed to turn two dark powers loose on the planet.

But I wonder how 'Rufus' will take this and deal with it.

Meanwhile Kim seems to be a bit manic after her exit from her first mission as Mastermind's creation. I guess mystics and announced prophecies can shake someone rooted in science and the hard maths like she was brought up in, the amulet notwithstanding.

And now it's coming to light what was done to the women as Shego confronts the women surrounding Ron as a major catfight is about to breakout.

Hope your injury heals well and you are able to keep your project moving along.

And hope your Thanksgiving and the remaining Holidays treat you well.

CB73

**_Thanks CB. Unmoored, Kim and Ron are vulnerable to forces that would not have affected them were they still united. Will they find their way back to each other? Or will such a confrontation prove deadly to one or both? I could tell you now but what would be the fun in that? R~13_**

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><p><em>Batamut<em>  
><em>2011-11-30 . chapter 48<em>

Good story but what has happened to the robot triplets?

**Look for a partial answer to your question in the next chapter. R~13**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 39/12 . chapter 6_

I'd like to see that team take the infield anytime they want to play 'Baseball'... But they're looking for Ron to take batting practice right now, so distracted they are. LOL!

Still, it's interesting that these ladies, and Joss is quickly catching up, have such a varied view of the jargon that goes with those 'stats' and making out. Yowsa!

Now Ron's being eased into something that on its surface is to help him, but it seems that it's only to help corrupt him and those around him.

Oy.

CB73

_**When it comes to "baseball" I still like the old saying: It's not whether you win or lose but how you play the game... R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 39/12 . chapter 6_

just so you know i still vote for nunnery but its only because of the amount of funny you can get you off it

_**Please, I'm trying to write a serious story, here! Oh...still not buying it, huh? R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 310/12 . chapter 6_

Oh boy, now we can have some REAL mayhem. Guess who's baaaaccccckkk. Abooooooyahaaaaa. Now he knows Shego is afraid of Zorpox, Kimmmie should be too.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

**_Everybody should be afraid of Zorpox. But nobody more than Ron! R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 830/13 . chapter 6 _

Crap... even I was buying that higher conscious babble. Man, Ron never stood a chance.

**_Ron has more experience in fighting Drakken or Killigan, or even Monkeyfist than he has fighting Zorpox. It may take him awhile to get up to speed... R~13_**

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><p><em>BartWLewis chapter 6 . 81/14_

Holy crap Zorpox is back...awesome.

_**Hmmmm, the jury is still out on the awesomness of Big Z... R~13**_


	7. Taradise (By the Dashboard Light)

_**Authors/Notes:**_

_**I must say that there are times when I think I may have over-rated the maturity level of this fanfic, having seen some T-rated stories that "boldly go." However, I am sticking with the "M" rating and would warn any reader who's grown complacent that this is a story for the **__**grown-ups**__** and all you younger readers should skedaddle off to bed now. More grown-up fare just ahead.**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ Even though the Kim Possible series is over and done with and the Disneyverse can barely be bothered to air reruns any more…I still make no claims to KP—alive nor Ron of the Living Dead. Just FanFic, folks. Nothin' to see here; just move along…move along…_

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven – Taradise (by the Dashboard Light)<strong>

Bebe was a blur as she changed the linens on Ron's bed to fresh, clean sheets. As soon as she was done, Cece and Dede laid the still-unconscious young man down with surprising tenderness for soulless automatons.

Tara parked her med kits next to the bed and looked at the others who had followed.

"Out. I want everybody out while I check his vitals and treat his burns."

The Possible girls and Shego all crossed their arms in attitudes on non-compliance and even Dr. Porter and Monique looked hesitant.

"Ladies," Tara said to the three, former B-bots, "do you acknowledge that I have seniority here in terms of medical skills and training?"

"This is true," all three answered.

"Jinx," Monique murmured, "somebody owes me a soda…"

"And do you all serve Ron Stoppable?"

"We do," they answered together.

Monique started to open her mouth again and then thought the better of it.

"Then I am telling you," Tara continued, "that Ron Stoppable will be best served by having some privacy: this will be a better environment for his recovery and help me to work more efficiently. Will you please clear everyone else out of the room and secure the door. Please do not permit anyone to come back in until I grant access."

Another blur and the room was suddenly empty save for Ron and Tara. Dede stood in the doorway; beyond her perfect form the others could be seen out in the corridor, looking a little unsteady as they recovered from their sudden relocation. "Will you need any assistance, Ms. King?"

Tara smiled. "I don't think so but you may remain, just in case."

Dede nodded and closed the door, locking it.

The platinum blonde paramedic-trainee unrolled her sphygmomanometer cuff and wrapped it around her patient's upper arm. As the cuff inflated, she marveled at the size and firmness of his biceps. Tara had fallen in love with him years before when he was a high school freshman, thin and spindly and boyish in demeanor—not at all the type to set a girl's heart a-flutter at first glance.

But she had seen something in him even then.

Not just the potential that had Kim always pushing and goading him to achieve.

And not just the dubious "fame" or impressive world-saving missions that secretly set Bonnie's heart on fire and drove her to mask her true feelings—even from herself.

No, Tara King, ethereally lovely and blooming into a delicate yet voluptuous beauty that drew other boys to her like moths to a flame, saw a kindness and a decency in Ron Stoppable that set him apart from others. And when he looked at her, it was as if he saw _her_—Tara King the person. Not her swelling bosom or her platinum hair or her face that might someday launch a thousand ships. These were accidents of genetics and gave no insights as to the mind and soul behind them. Boys looked at those but they didn't see _her_. They looked at those and saw a trophy.

Ronald Stoppable looked and saw Tara King.

And she loved him for that.

Deeply.

Madly.

Wistfully!

For the very assets that would have allowed her to win over any other boy in her class were seemingly transparent to the boy she wanted above all others. And, aside from those—how could she ever compete with Kim Possible?

No one could.

Even if it seemed as though the redhead wasn't really interested in him in that way back then.

Of course, the inevitable _had_ finally happened: Kim and Ron hooked up. And Tara took consolation that she had moved on a long time ago.

That's what she kept telling herself.

Ron had taught her a lot about the values to look for in a boyfriend and, since she could pretty much have her pick, she chose carefully.

Josh Mankey had been a mistake, though not a bad one. He was rebounding from Kim and she was working out her own, passive-aggressive feelings about Kim's ownership of all things Ron. Josh had been a perfect gentleman but they drifted apart rather quickly as there was no real chemistry for either of them.

Middleton's star basketball forward, Jason Morgan, seemed to be what the doctor ordered. Athletic, smart, good-natured, and he seemed to worship the ground she walked on. He was the perfect guy, the perfect boyfriend.

That's what she kept telling herself.

Other guys wanted to be him, other girls wanted to be _with_ him…and he wanted to be with her. They were an item all the way up to graduation and, come that night, she decided ahead of time, it would be time to "seal the deal" by taking their relationship to the next stage.

The Lowardian Invasion ultimately put that plan on the back burner.

When things had finally settled back down, Jason was attending USC on a scholarship and she was burning the candle at both ends on an accelerated pre-med class-load while training for her E.M.T. certification. When she thought about Jason at all—an increasingly rare occasion—it was with a growing sense of relief that he was three states away and the realization that she was investing in a workload that left her no time for a social life.

The thought of surrendering her virginity to anyone had become unimaginable of late.

While Jason had seemed to be the perfect choice—strong, yet sensitive and gentle—she kept seeing Ron's face when she imagined the weight of a man's body between her thighs and pressing down upon her as she opened herself to him.

She knew it wasn't rational or even possible. It was a childish, stubborn desire that would only leave her lonely, frustrated, and, ultimately, disappointed.

Sometimes she fantasized about getting Kim to agree to let Ron take her virginity as a special, one-time gift. Or agree to let him father a surrogate child with her womb.

It was all insanely silly and unrealistic—but then most sexual fantasies are…

So Tara had pushed all thoughts of love and romance out of her head and heart and focused on filling every spare moment of her waking life with textbooks and lectures and ambulance runs and made sure that she couldn't be disappointed by a social life that she had no time or energy for.

And then, _he_ had returned.

Hurt.

Seemingly broken.

Sad…

Without Kim.

And maybe every bit as lonely as she…

_He_ needed her.

Even if it was only for her modest medical skills and knowledge.

She had decided that she would give him whatever he needed. Or wanted. Even if it was distributing band-aids to the seeming harem that had coalesced around _him_.

Just being near him again brought back those old feelings…

Of safety, even when danger was near.

Of respect and regard, when so many men looked at her and saw sex or some kind of prize.

Of warmth and kindness, when she learned daily that the world was not a warm or a kind place.

Of excitement, knowing that life could never be normal...or dull...or boring around Ronald Dean Stoppable.

And his little girl—his sister—was so adorable! Hana took to Tara, sensing the kindness in the blonde woman that was like the kindness in her own, big brother. And Tara felt a love for the little toddler who seemed to find joy and delight in every occasion of the day.

But now…

Now Ron needed _her_ like he never had before.

She gazed at the burns that had erupted across his skin and worried that the hospital might be the more appropriate course of action. She wished that she could consult Dr. Possible but didn't know if she trusted the judgment of the twenty-five year-old girlfriend-wannabe that she had become.

_Assessment first_, she reminded herself as she took note of Ron's blood pressure and released the cuff. "Help me get his pants off," she told Dede, wondering if more burns were hidden from view.

The robot was gentle and the work jeans slid off easily revealing a pair of _Kung Fu Panda_ boxers. The newly revealed regions showed no further evidence of injuries but Tara took a peek under the colorful waistband to make sure as Dede folded the jeans and put them away.

No burns there, either…

…and_ it_ was even bigger than she remembered from back at the hospital!

_Focus!_ She scolded herself.

She turned and rummaged through the medical supplies for burn ointment. As she did, she glanced down and noticed that her blouse was dusty and streaked with grime from the old files she had been cataloging in the records section of the college's biology department that morning.

Quickly unbuttoning the unsterile top, she shrugged it off and let it drop to the floor. Dede retrieved the germ-laden garment and carried it into the bathroom to hand launder.

She glanced down once more, contemplating her lacey bra. It seemed clean enough and she could still smell the sweet aroma of soap on her skin from her morning's shower. Still, no point in risking contamination: she pulled on a pair of latex gloves before picking up the ointment and a sterile applicator.

Turning back to her patient, she was shocked to see the burns starting to fade.

It was like watching a time-lapse video in reverse. The blisters collapsed in upon themselves and shrank to nothingness. Skin that was black and red smoothed out and became lightly tanned, blending with the rest of his unaffected epidermis. In moments his torso was unblemished save for the old scars from missions past.

Tara dropped the ointment and stripped off her gloves. She took his left arm and elevated it to take his pulse at the wrist. As she counted the beats in the vein beneath the fingers of her right hand, she leaned forward to touch one of the formerly affected areas with her left hand.

This brought his left hand to rest on the upper slope of Tara's right breast.

It startled her. But only for a moment.

And in a most pleasant manner.

Her brassiere was a demi-cup (all of her regular bras were in the laundry) and the warmth of his palm on her bare flesh left her flushed and tremulous. She leaned into his grasp but his fingers remained limp and unresponsive. She ran her other hand up his arm and covered his hand with hers so that she could apply a little pressure and simulate a slight grasp and a squeeze with his work-roughened palm.

She closed her eyes and imagined his hand—hands—on her breasts, awake and ardent. And she impulsively reached for the front closure on her bra.

His hand dropped limply to his side as she skimmed the lingerie off and down her arms, allowing her breasts the full freedom that she had hitherto only imagined in the presence of any male…much less…_him_.

And now here they were…together…and alone—save for a non-human creation of circuits and nano-tech polymer components.

Even if he was unconscious.

Even if he would demur from any such intimacies with her…

For just a moment…she might have _this_ moment. This fantasy fulfilled with tactile reinforcement!

In a minute—or two—she would cover herself and—for him and the others and the rest of the world—this brief little encounter would be as if it never existed.

But might sustain her through many of the lonely, empty nights that would surely come.

She took his large hands in her delicate ones and raised them to her breasts.

Everyone talked about Bonnie Rockwaller's boobs. Why wouldn't they? They were impressive for a high-schooler back in the day and the brunette usually dressed in such a way to flaunt them in public.

But, in the girl's locker room, after cheerleading practice, there was often a reverential silence when Tara's assets were freed from the tight confines of her sports bra. Soft and round and white and generous in their bounty, they always drew stares that the shy girl sought to minimize by dressing to deemphasize. Of course it was somewhat like trying to hide two elephants behind a pair of Volkswagen Beetles but she found some relief when hanging out with Bonnie Rockwaller as the busty extrovert was adept at redirecting all attention to herself.

Right now, they were just right for an oversized pair of hands. The warmth of Ron's palms felt heavenly against her snowy globes and she squeezed his hands with hers so that his fingers pressed down firmly into her soft, pillow-flesh. She sighed as she leaned into their false grasp and tried to picture what he would do if he were awake and inclined to take them for a test-drive.

She could imagine him gently stroking and squeezing her breasts and—_oh!_—pinching a nipple like a hungry little mouth! His eyes would gaze up into hers and—

That's when she realized that her eyes had reopened and were looking down into his softly glowing orbs! Out of the corner of her eye she saw her hardened left nipple escape the pinch of his fingers.

Her cheeks flamed red-hot with shame and embarrassment! "Ron…I…"

"Tara," he murmured. "You are so beautiful…"

Her mouth hung open. Had she heard him correctly?

"I was so blind," he whispered. "By the time I knew that you would have given me a chance, I thought it was too late. I just couldn't believe that you would like-like a loser like me."

"Don't say that!" she moaned. "Don't call yourself a loser! Don't you know how precious you are?"

"I'm not," he sighed. "I'm nothing special. I'm all alone in this world and I can't see how it could be any other way. You're just very kind and sweet. Here you are, taking care of me…and I…I'm acting all creepy, groping you like a—"

"Hush!" she hissed fiercely. "I love you! And I want you!"

"Y-you want me?"

"Right here," she agreed. "Right now! Oh, _love_ me, Ron! Make love to me like the world will end tomorrow!"

He pulled back his hands but she rode them down and onto his chest. Her mouth sought his with an aching hunger that would not be denied. She devoured him with her mouth, beginning with his lips and then working up to kiss his tear-filled eyes. Then she sought his mouth again and began to work her way lower, kissing him along his jaw and then down the side of his neck. Reaching his chest, she licked his nipples, tightening each nub into a hard knot of tumescence.

She felt a hard ridge press up against her stomach as she prepared to work her way lower but he grasped her upper arms and rolled her over and onto the bed so that he was on top. "My turn," he said hoarsely as he lowered his lips to her neck.

He kissed the hollow of her throat and some part of the back of her mind cataloged it as the _surpra-sternal notch _from her textbooks_._

Her inner med-student, like some detached observer continued to note the progress of his mouth along her _clavicle_ and down the slope of her left _pectoralis major_ to her mammary and then a brief orbit of her aureole before moving to the anterior quadrant of her chest and then down to the undersides of her…breasts.

From the stories of make-out sessions she'd heard from other girls, she had expected him to go straight to her nipples but he was taking his time, laving her creamy flesh with his tongue and placing soft kisses where she least expected them.

And now his mouth burned a path to the base of her _sternum_.

A slow descent ensued, his lips brushing and his teeth nibbling down the line of her _Linea alba_ to her _umbilicus_, where it peeked from the waist of her jeans. His fingers touched the buckle of her belt and paused. He glanced up and she nodded, murmuring: "Please…"

A moment later her jeans, socks, and shoes were on the floor beside the bed and she reached down to help with her panties. He covered her hands with his and said, "Not yet…"

His mouth returned to her waist, wandering across the soft, white skin that covered her _Rectus abdomini_ and across her _Tendinous intersection_ over to her _Transversus abdominis_. Then, moving lower, to her _External obliques_, crossing back under her _umbilicus_ to orbit back up and into that deep cup better known as the belly button. His tongue delved into its hidden mysteries for a moment and then he ascended to her other breast—she was done cataloging in medical terms, now.

At last her nipples were accorded the attention that they ached for—though not too much, for his mouth rose to seek her lips once more. And then descended to her stomach, wandering once more toward the waistband of her white, cotton panties. As those soft, flexible lips and teasing, nipping teeth worked their way down her belly she began to squirm as unfamiliar sensations shot through her core and down into her secret center.

At last, the final barrier to her gates was removed. Cool air swept across the moist curls that matted those last inches of formerly hidden folds, quickly replaced by warm breath and an even warmer tongue.

Tara gasped and grabbed onto the headboard as her body clenched in happy surprise. She started to loosen her grip but renewed it now as a whole kaleidoscope of sensations began to radiate out from her _mons_.

As his hands slid up her hips, dipping in at the curve of her waist and found their way back to her aching breasts, she felt her belly grow taut, like a still spring pond, caught between the volcanic foothills of her bosom and the deepwater grotto at the juncture of her thighs. Somewhere, just below the surface of that pond a fish was stirring. It began to swim about as if seeking something, its fins sweeping the liquid beneath the surface, it dorsal tracing delicate patterns on the underside of her skin. New currents began to eddy about the depths of her pond, the grotto revealing an underground spring that began to bubble deep down as it rose toward its opening. The stirring in her belly became more pronounced as the fish began to swim more swiftly and erratically. She forgot to breathe…and then her lungs had to labor to catch up. Her chest began to heave and her arms and legs tensed, the muscles clenching as if to lift a heavy weight.

And then it came: her back arched and her body lifted up off of the mattress, her stomach and womb turned inside-out by a cascade of quakes that turned her bones to jelly and sent her juices erupting like an underwater geyser. She tried to call his name but the sounds that grunted from her suddenly engorged lips were primal and incoherent, a guttural scream of wonder and pleasure. Sweat exploded from the pores of her flawless skin and she was suddenly wet and pearlescent in her white loveliness.

Her heart stopped.

And then, sometime later, it beat once more and she came back into her body, into her mind.

The room was too quiet, too still.

Slowly, uncomprehendingly, she looked down.

Ron, still unconscious, lay on the bed where the B-bots had left him. She sat beside him, clutching the sphygmomanometer cuff in her hand.

She felt an unaccustomed moistness between her legs and looked down. Her blouse was clean albeit haphazardly buttoned.

And it felt like her bra was on inside-out.

**RSVP**

Elle had lost track of how much time had passed since she had managed to slip away in the chaos and confusion that had ensued with the death of Mastermind and the transformation of Kim Possible.

Exiting the lair she had been dismayed to discover that she was in the middle of nowhere: the Rocky Mountains at her back and a warren of foothills and valleys surrounding her. The nearest town or habitable shelter might be fifty miles away—or farther, if she headed off in the wrong direction.

So she'd holed up in the out-building containing the lair's power plant some thirty yards away from the main building. It was warm inside and sheltered her from the elements and any wildlife. She could hide among in the maze of machinery, pipes, and conduits if anyone came in—which hadn't happened yet. And she could tap into the electrical grid to gather information and feed her power needs to grow strong again.

But though Electronique was a creature who could draw certain measures of strength and sustenance from electrical power sources, the human aspects of her body still required edible food. She was slowly starving despite nocturnal forays out into the scrub to zap an occasional rabbit and flash fry it for emergency rations.

Gradually she was able to gain a sense of the lair's location and how to get to the nearest town. Better yet, she intercepted a delivery order that would have a shipping truck making a drop-off in the next thirty-six hours. If she was careful she could slip down the dirt road and jump aboard on that hairpin curve where it would have slow down on its return to town.

In the mean-time she re-entered the communications grid, sending out mental feelers on the off chance that she might catch Ron Stoppable or Shego plugged in again, somewhere.

And, eventually, she was rewarded!

**RSVP**

Captain Shaula Lesath returned to her scoutship and decloaked her personal camouflage array, returning her skin to its sky-hued loveliness and her hair to its perfect, silver-whiteness that made her a great beauty on her homeworld of Uptopia.

As she went over the data that she had collected this past day-cycle, she found that her rudimentary analysis of this Ronald Dean Stoppable was turning into a complex conundrum that seemed to require more and more reconnaissance before formulating a final report.

Her initial reaction was that the option to assassinate the target was premature and possibly very wrongheaded. She would need more time to gather additional information and assemble the data for a personality analysis.

As she began to outline the next round of assessment goals, she found herself wondering if the target might find her own, alien color palette off-putting…

…should it come to the opportunity of recruiting him to the Uptopian cause, that is.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "Taradise (By the Dashboard Light)" is a play on words off of the title of the old Meatloaf song, Paradise by the Dashboard Light…<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2: **

_**Well, I hope this wasn't too much, even with the "M" rating in place: I've seen more extreme passages in other stories here so, I dunno. I tried to be tasteful and less than explicit—it certainly could have been more so but…I'll take it back down if warranted.**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 7<strong>

**The first 3 reviews date back to when Chapter 7 was chapter 49 of the original RSVP storyfile.**

_Grin-Grin_  
><em>2011-11-27 . chapter 7<em>

... This is the restart point of Ron(Zorpox)'s harem isn't it?

But seriously there are way to few fics with a well-written Zorpox in.

Seriously.

_**Your question and statement actually raise a question: where does Ron leave off and Zorpox begin? R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73<em>  
><em>2011-11-27 . chapter 7<em>

Makes ya wonder if she imagined this, or...?

CB73

_**Ah, that is the question, isn't it? R~13**_

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><p><em>jagaer<em>  
><em>2011-12-01 . chapter 7<em>

I am not sure what I think. Is this Zorpox or is it Ron without his hang ups? This will get more complicated now. Is this foreshadowing of a pregnant Tara. What about Electronique? All I can say is things appear a great deal more convoluted. What about Shego? And what about Kim?

_**See comment to Grin-Grin, above. As for the rest of your questions: stay tuned… R~13**_

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><p><em>Pavelius 310/12 . chapter 7_

So Ron or at least Zorpox finally gets some "action" even it is only in his/her mind... and Electronique was watching?

And i am wondering what has happened to Drakken... he was was in the lair when Mastermind No. 1 (his mom) died, wasnt he?

Keep it up

Pavel

**_No, Electronique tuned in elsewhere as you will shortly see. Mastermind and the flying throne shielded Drakken from the blast. Unfortunately there's nothing shielding him now from an explosive former-redhead… R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 310/12 . chapter 7_

Yep, gonna stand by my previous entry...

Oh yeah.

CB73

**_My advice exactly: Stand by…~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 310/12 . chapter 7_

a serious story with reapeted imaginary sex sences and the stoppable signture pants drop yeah right

**_Hey, it could happen! R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 310/12 . chapter 7_

Yeah it's convoluted Rippy, now I'm not sure how Tara did that butttt I suppose that she did it well or maybe it was Zorpox!

SO Elle is back too huh. And I still don't buy that Mastermind has croaked, you spent too much time building he/she/it up.

Oh and something about the previous chapter and the name of this one, still doing the baseball anaologies huh.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**You do realize that if I have killed Mastermind off (because she was merely the catalyst to put all of the pieces in place for the epic Kim vs. Ron face-off) but you keep nudging me toward a whole new subplot of "Mastermind isn't really dead after all" idea—then you'll be responsible for an eventual word-count numbering in the 8 digits instead of the 7 that I've planned! You may want to think very carefully about that before nudging me again… (I have a word processor and I'm not afraid to use it!) **_

_**;-) R~13**_

**What say you, dear readers? Should Mastermind come back from the grave or should Dark Kim stay front and center?**

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><p><em>Jimmy1201 315/12 . chapter 7_

I don't know why you aren't racking up reviews. I admit that I was one of the people that read the first two chapters and sort of gave up on the story as too grim. I mean really, you killed off Rufus! :)

But I see you are editing and re-posting so I figured to look again. You have done an amazing amount of work on the characters to the point where calling it a Ron story short changes it. Granted the majority of characters are females with some connection to Ron, but still, there are a lot of story lines running through the chapters.

As to who joins up with Kim? I figure that if you do half the work on character interactions that you have done with Ron & company, it doesn't matter, the story should be interesting.

**_Sigh…it's not just reviews: no Fannie noms, either. I'm the Rodney Dangerfield of FanFiction: I don't get no respect. T_**_**hanks for coming back and thanks for posting! **_

_**Yeah, the opening chapters were dark and I hated the fact that it would drive some readers away before things really got going. But the payoff can't really be big unless the stakes are high—and despite the present silliness, the stakes are gonna get a little higher before we're done. As for poor Rufus, well, he's still around though the little pink body that a portion of his consciousness inhabited is gone. For now. Oops! Forget I said that! **_**_Keep reading to see whom Dark Kim will recruit. Throw out any suggestions that you like. R~13_**

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><p><em>pbow 430/12 . chapter 7_

Okay. So Zorpox has stayed behind in Sheila's mind. Will that lead to a renewed Shego or just a more sexually agressive Sheila toward Ron? I would guess that Zorpox can come and go from her mind just like Ron can so the internal dialogue between Z and S will be interesting, to say the least.

I'd like to recast my vote as to who Ron will end up with, in conjunction with your current poll. I think both Ron and Shego should turn evil and join up with EvilKim, and the one who will eventually take them down and turn them wholesome again should be Hanna. Hanna? Hannah? I never could find the correct Jewish spelling of the name.)

Onward to chap 8

pbow

**_I can see how you could read it this way. I'm not seeing Ron or Zorpox being "left behind" in Shego's mind. During the "meld" they share consciousness of a sort. Zorpy is tied to Ron—albeit subconsciously—and when Ron departs, so does he. In this case, Ron has already fled from the "chamber" where he encountered Shego and should be assumed to be back in his own head._**

**_The show used "Hana" as the default spelling, riffing off of the word "Han." An interesting idea, my friend: Hana will be about 21 by the time I get to RSVP VIII: The Midlife Crisis! (LOL) R~13_**

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><p><em>gjin19 82/13 . chapter 7_

I can't say I didn't expect the Utopian being attracted to Ron; in fact, if my memory serves me right, you mentioned that a Lorwardian woman will come looking for her sister. Am I right to assume that she too will fall in love with him?

**_Without giving too much away at this point, I'd interpret the Uptopian agent's musings to be more along the lines of whether or not she could "turn" him as an "asset" as opposed to "falling in love". As for the Lowardian? Remember, they have this thing about "The Big Blue." If Warmonga could serve the repulsive "Dr. D." thinking he was The Big Blue, then who knows how Ursula will react to someone who's alot closer to the Real Deal. Of course, she could show up and say: "Hello. My name is Ursula Montoya. You killed my sister: prepare to die!" R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 830/13 . chapter 7 _

Damn it! Please, PLEASE, tell me Tara's first time with Ron (imaginary or not), was actually with Ron and not Zorpox!

**_The question everyone should be asking themselves is where does Zorpox leave off and Ron begin? Or vice-versa. R~13_**

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><p><em>BartWLewis chapter 7 . 82/14_

So Ron got Tara off by using his powers to simulate a action in her head that affected her nervous system?

_**We certainly hope so because the alternative possibility...(shudders uncontrollably) R~13**_


	8. Ronnie's Angels

**Author's Notes: **_**With this chapter the total number of chapters in the RSVP saga hits 50*. (*Back when this was one big story-file instead of two.)**_

_**I'd like to thank each and every one of you who have taken the time to hit the review link or drop me a private message with questions, encouragement, or just going on the record that you're actually reading this colossal waste of virtual paper and ink. Unfortunately, you are the ones luring me back here when I should be getting other things done!**_

_**And I've made a New Year's resolution to be more chatty with my reviewers and visitors.**_

_**Finally, I thought I'd mark the occasion with some zombie goodness!**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ I suppose I should stop trying to be clever and creative at this point and just publish the same, simple disclaimer statement over and over again from here on out. Maybe I should use other people's disclaimers…feel free to submit a few. In the mean-time: I do not own nor am I affiliated with anything to do with the Kim Possible properties: this is an unauthorized and nonprofit venture and should not be construed to have any relationship with the actual characters or properties of Kim Possible or the DisneyCorp empire. So, boo._

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight – Ronnie's Angels<strong>

Zita Flores would have preferred a sword.

Or a wand.

But this wasn't _Everlot_ and the twin 9-millimeter automatics that she had selected from the armory were the best she could do for now. Glock 26s: they were small and light—"Pocket Glocks" or "Baby Glocks" as they were sometimes called. But one was a dead weight in her left hand, its magazine empty and the one in her right was low on ammo.

_How low?_

She'd lost count six blocks back but knew that she had at least two, with one in the chamber.

There was a gun shop up ahead and across the street. She headed for it after checking all of her sight lines. So far, so good: the streets were empty in every direction for the moment.

The store was closed and dark. The front door locked.

_Of course_.

She looked around again and then pointed her handgun at the glass next to the lock on the door. The report boomed out in all directions, amplified as it echoed off the buildings and alleyways, covering the delicate tinkle of shattered glass.

An alarm began to bray.

_Great_, she thought. _A single gunshot might be hard to home in on but the burglar alarm would act as a steady beacon for every walker, shambler, and crawler in the city. She had maybe minutes to get in and back out again._

She was small—a disadvantage in most physical confrontations where strength and size were paramount. But she was quick and dexterous and her hand threaded through the security bars to unlock the door on the other side of the broken glass in just a matter of seconds. Her haste made her careless, however, and she cut herself as she pushed the door open while withdrawing her arm.

Hissing in pain and anger, she rushed into the shop, hoping the cut wasn't too serious: no time for first-aid now; she had to grab and run before the monsters arrived.

The pale, late afternoon light did not penetrate very deeply into the shop but she could see well enough to grab a couple of shopping bags and start filling them with the correct caliber of ammo. Spare magazines, a couple of flashlights, batteries, a hunting knife, and a machete went into the second sack. She eyed a rack of shotguns longingly but their weight and her height negated any advantages one might bestow.

And besides: they were locked through the trigger-guards.

She took an extra minute to reload one of her guns. She dared not take time for the second, lest she be trapped before she could get clear.

On her way back out, she grabbed a backpack and a first-aid kit.

The front of the shop was clear but there were several people approaching from just a block away.

_People!_ She snorted.

_They weren't people, anymore. They were things! Things best described by their gait and potential speed: walkers, shamblers, crawlers. All of them were biters. Thank God she hadn't run across any "runners", yet!_

She pushed out into the street and began trotting down the center line, away from the staggering menace. _Keep to the middle_, she reminded herself. _If something's lurking in a doorway or around the corner, make it break cover to come to you!_

She checked each cross street as she jogged, hoping to leave the line-of-sight her pursuers had on her. Each intersection, however, revealed several undead threats that just added to the slow-motion mob that hungered for her sweet, tender flesh.

Her arm ached where she had cut it on the jagged glass in the door. Worse, it dripped blood! At least it wasn't dribbling, adding the hazard of exsanguination. But she was leaving a trail for the others to follow!

Dropping the nearly empty gun into one of the bags, she stopped, tore off the lower half of her shirt and tied it tightly around the cut, momentarily staunching the flow. Lifting her loot, she started to jog again but her momentary pause had allowed the nearest creature to close within a half of a block.

The wind was behind it and the stench rolled over her like a palpable wave of rot, decay, and putrescence. She gagged and threw up a little in her mouth. She only spared the thing a glance as she struggled to out-distance it, again.

Looking at them only made it worse.

Seeing the greenish-grey flesh, hanging in jagged strips off of the underlying bone, seeing the lidless eyeballs, hazed with bluish-grey clouds as they stared hungrily from dark, bony sockets, but, worst of all, seeing the long, yellowed teeth bared in lipless mouths, stained with blood and festooned with gobbets of torn flesh—you were made all too aware of their pitilessness, their soullessness, and their unholy hunger!

The next side street had a shambler and a couple of crawlers so she took it and began to run towards them.

Crawlers were easy to evade if you weren't trapped in a space with limited maneuvering room.

The shambler—an old man, though that was only a guess thanks to the progress of his decay—could probably be avoided, as well, but she approached him anyway and put a bullet through his skull as she closed within ten feet. He dropped like a sack of flour. She hated getting that close but she wasn't a good enough marksman (yet) for serious accuracy from a safe distance.

_I needed the practice_, she told herself as she passed between the two crawlers and broke into a full out run. But the truth was she needed a little payback and some cathartic courage for rising tide of fear that threatened to choke her into a full-fledged swoon.

Now she needed to disappear: break the line-of-sight her pursuers had on her before she started leaving a fresh trail of blood.

**RSVP**

Shego stepped out of the shower and pressed answer on her cell phone along with speaker-mode.

"Sheila?" Betty Director's voice.

"What's the sitch?" she asked as she began to towel off her pale green skin. _Holy crap! Where did _that_ come from?_

"The _Possibilities Project_ is not up to speed, yet, so I've got a job for you and Ron."

"Whoa, Betts! Ron's down for the moment and I don't work for you anymore. Remember?"

"What do you mean: Ron's down?"

Shego filled her in as she finished drying and began applying baby powder.

"Hmmm. Maybe it's just as well. We've got a lead on Duff Killigan and—"

"Killigan?" Shego screeched. "The bastard that blew up Ron's parents?"

The door to her quarters burst open and the two Possible women came rushing in. "Where?" they chorused, "Where is he?"

"What the f-? Get out!" the former villainess roared, grabbing a towel to cover her nakedness.

"Chill out," Anne told her. "I'm a doctor! I mean, my mom's a doctor! I mean—"

"Oh my God," Joss exclaimed, "you're green _everywhere!_ Aunt Anne, she's _green_ everywhere!"

"Get out!" Shego roared.

"What's going on!" demanded a new voice, almost as strident as the aggrieved occupant's. Bonnie Rockwaller strode into the increasingly cramped bed and bath area. "I got a text from Monique that Ron was—holy cow! Is that what happens when you blush?"

Britina and Heather peeked around the corner.

"It wasn't anything like this the last time I hung out with Kim and Ron," the redheaded actress whispered. "You?"

"All the times I hung out with Jessica and her cheerleader friends it was boring and pretty much quiet," the platinum blonde pop star murmured back.

Bebe popped into the room, took one look and said, by way of observation: "Freeaky!"

Shego's gaze snapped to the B-bot that closely resembled Adrena Lynn. _"What!"_

The blonde robot zipped up to Ron's Chief of Security. "Dede has gone off-line and Cece has disappeared," she announced.

**RSVP**

As soon as the B-bot named Cece was inside the perimeter, the force field snapped back up.

"Did you bring everything I ordered?" Justine Flanner asked.

"Yes," the lovely, dark-skinned syntho-girl answered. She handed the packages of food, medical supplies, and electrical components to Jim and Tim Possible and then proceeded to change out the I.V. next to the bed containing Wade Load.

The teenage genius opened his eyes slowly and contemplated the dusky beauty who was working over him. "Ahhhh," he whispered contentedly, "this is a _good_ dream!"

**RSVP**

Zita had managed to evade the zombies long enough for them to lose her trail. But she was still out in the open and it was starting to get dark. The sun would be down in another hour and she needed somewhere to hole up for the night and rest.

She found a quaint old hotel, nearly a century old and no more than five stories in height.

Carefully checking the lobby, she found the main floor to be clear. She grabbed a handful of room keys from behind the front desk and went to raid the kitchen for edibles. Then, carefully and quietly, she slipped up the stairs to the fifth floor, checking for movement on each floor as she went.

Although a thorough room-to-room search would have been better, she didn't have the time or the energy so she returned to the third floor and began searching for a place to spend the night. She didn't like the idea of being vulnerable to access from both above and below but she wanted options if she had to escape in either direction and figured that a drop from a third story window was more survivable than a drop from the fifth floor.

She checked several rooms before she found one that offered the optimal layout for defense and retreat and then proceeded to lock herself in and barricade the doors. Next, she pulled the shades—heavy, old fashioned pull-downs that were designed to block the light for late-sleepers. If it blocked the light coming in, she reasoned, it should block the light going out. Then she pulled the heavy drapes closed and used furniture to barricade the windows, as well.

She desperately wanted to take a shower or a bath and clean herself. She needed to tend to the cut on her arm and there were scratches and bruises to treat, as well. But she had to consider her priorities and that meant reloading and rearming, first.

She took out all of her magazines—she had called them "clips" once, when Ron was teaching her how to play Zombie Mayhem and he had corrected her in his own inimitable fashion. "Clips is what a girl puts in her hair or loads into her rifle," he had explained with a grin. "Magazines is what a girl reads or loads into her handgun. A lot of people get it backwards…"

She wished Ron was here now. Maybe she was the all-but-proclaimed queen of _Everlot_ but Ron was master of massacres when it came to _Zombie Mayhem_.

_It was sort of his fault that she was in this mess now_, she thought as she tested the springs and loaded each magazine with nine millimeter ammo. _No, that wasn't really fair, but she _was _here because of him._

Ever since he had returned from Japan, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him.

Then he bought that warehouse from Crystal's father and started rehabbing it with plans for a restaurant, a mini mall, living quarters for himself…and apartments for others.

Monique and, from what she could see, several other women had already moved in. Monique had not only been given living space, rent free, but Ron was going to set her up in her own business, as well.

She wanted to feel happy for her friend—for both of them, in fact. But she couldn't help feeling a gnawing sadness when she thought of Ron as "the one who got away."

Granted, he had been silly and goofy and immature back then—but it was high school and who wasn't when they were fifteen and sixteen? She was his first girlfriend and that should count for something, even though they had both moved on after a short time.

She had dated Ron's best friend, Felix Renton, for a time. He was smart, funny, and shared her love of video games. But, after graduation, he was starting college with an eye on cybernetics and, gradually, found that he had more in common with Justine Flanner than herself.

There had been a couple of other guys—she was pretty and popular enough—but no one special. She had been in no hurry to settle down with anyone: nineteen was too young to make a life-choice that was supposed to last in the relationship department.

Except…a door had closed before she had realized the opportunity she had lost.

Now she was alone in her apartment: Monique had moved out. And up! And she—Zita—was alone and wondering what might have been if they—she and Ron—had stayed the course as girlfriend and boyfriend…

She didn't think of herself as a gold-digger. Ron's financial prospects had never been a part of her feelings for him—even when he was a multi-millionaire for a few short days back at Middleton High. No, it was seeing that she had missed out on the man that he had turned into in just a couple of short years. Even before he saved the planet from the Lowardians, there was the growing awareness of his heroics on all of those missions with Kim. She had been blinded by his goofiness to the greatness he was harboring even then.

And now he was surrounded by all of these women! The cheerleaders and those older women, as well! While she lived miles away in her lonely little apartment. Away from the excitement. Away from the action.

Away from _him_.

She'd been visiting Monique a lot, offering to help her friend out as she recovered from her gunshot wound. But she thought that Mon was getting suspicious of late. She felt as if it were obvious for everyone to see: she was coming around, hoping to see—and be seen—by Ron Stoppable.

But that hadn't happened. He was busy all of the time. He was rarely around when she dropped by.

And the competition was _ludicrous…_

She looked down at her small, compact bosom. It wasn't quite as small and pointy as it was in high school but she was still at the back of the line when it came to the bouncing bounty of the other bimbos in Ron's life. No: that was mean and uncalled for. The others weren't bimbos—one was even a scientist for heaven's sake! But she was nowhere near as glamorous or accomplished as the others.

Unless you counted computer skills and a knack for online games.

Which brought her to her current predicament?

While hanging out in Monique's "apartment" waiting for her to get back, she had decided to try her friend's latest game console and the new release of _Zombie Mayhem IX: Virtual Doom_. After the debacle with the Immersion Caps from _Everlot Inc._, Zita had promised herself that she would stick to keyboards and game controllers. But the virtual reality gear in her friend's room was different from the obvious trap set up by Malcolm Neevious when he was out of control as _Everlot's_ Wraithmaster…

So she had put it on and jumped into this next generation of the _Zombie Mayhem_ franchise.

She was delighted! At first.

The virtual reality was incredible: all of her senses were amped up and she could feel the breeze on her skin, feel the weight of the guns, tugging down the gun belts on her hips, smell the stench of death and decay as the zombies approached…

And then, to her growing horror, learned that she could feel pain as she was struck by one from behind. Another had scored lines of fiery hurt down one arm and across her side with it long, gnarly fingernails.

She didn't want to find out what it would feel like if they were able to hold her down and tear into her flesh with their snapping teeth and leathery jaws! If everything else in this virtual game world smelled and sounded and looked and tasted and felt real, then she didn't want to find out what it would be like to be eaten alive!

_She would save one last bullet for herself before she would let that happen!_

And if she turned the gun on herself, would that end the game? Would she escape this virtual hell and wake up on Monique's couch, no worse for the wear?

It seemed logical.

She had found no other way to pause the game or extract herself from it.

But that act of last resort was too uncertain, too scary, to roll the dice on just yet.

Maybe Monique would come home and pull her back out.

Maybe Ron would find her, himself!

In any event, she was Zita Flores, Queen of _Everlot_ and Gamer _Extraordinaire_! She'd learned a lot over the past few hours and she was damned if she would give it up so easily!

She finished loading the ammo and leaned back against the bed to rest her eyes for a moment before getting up to move into the bathroom.

**RSVP**

"Let me get this straight," Bonnie was saying as Shego dressed on the other side of the bathroom door. "The freak that killed Ron's parents—the asshole that killed Kim's dad and brothers—is playing in some celebrity golf tournament over in the Middle East, this weekend?"

"Yes, Miss Rockwaller," Dr. Director's voice answered from the cell phone's speaker, "and we neither have extradition laws in place nor provisional authority to act in this matter."

"So what _are_ you going to do?" she demanded, in full Queen B mode.

"There's nothing that Global Justice can do," the director answered. "Our hands are tied under the present circumstances. This is the sort of operation that we have turned over to Team Possible in the past…"

"There is no Team Possible," Shego griped from the other side of the partially closed door. "Not any more."

"Hey!" said Anne Possible. "Standing right here!"

Bonnie eyed Kim's mom and remembered what a screwed up sitch they had on their hands right now. "Soooo," she said in an uncharacteristically diplomatic tone, "obviously Team Possible isn't what it was—_with Ron out of the picture_…" She emphasized her last five words. "But what about substitutions?"

"Uh, what do you mean?" the director asked carefully, trying to sound Bonnie out without further tweaking Kim's mother.

"Well, Anne here shouldn't go in without backup," the teal-eyed brunette continued. "But we have several people who have gone on missions with her before."

"We have?" Anne asked, puzzled.

"Sure. There was that time that Ki—we were stuck together and had to chase down that Professor Demented guy..."

"And I went on a couple of missions with her," Monique called from the back of the increasingly crowded bedroom.

"I helped the princess take on my brothers once," Shego added, emerging from the bathroom in black jeans and a green tee.

"Ah've done some mission-work, mahself," Joss finished

"Hey," Marcella yelled. "All that sixteen styles of kung-fu is so over-rated! We all know that Kim does most of her freak-fighting with _cheerleader moves!_ Well, you've got…" She turned and counted. "…three more cheerleaders besides Bonnie, four counting Tara."

"Hey, yourself!" another blonde chimed in. "Linda and I may have just been the Mad Dog alternates but we trained just as hard as the rest of you and have the same moves!"

Bonnie nodded. "Sorry, Maggie. Linda." She turned back to the phone. "What we may lack in experience, we more than make up for in numbers!"

_Where did they all come from?_ Shego wondered. _I'll have to have a talk with Jenkins and Rockwaller about texting or tweeting or whatever they're doing and what the security protocols allow._

"Intriguing," Dr. Director said. "I'll have to give this some thought. The trick will be to smuggle someone into the tournament. I had thought that Ron might qualify as a celebrity and, with his extreme sports skills…"

"That's crazy!" Bonnie exploded. "Look, even if Ron was up for this—" She looked around the room with her glare set to _Crazy Eyes_. "—and he'd better not be! This psycho-freak killed his parents and tried to kill his baby sister. You think this guy's _not_ going to go all out on Ron the moment he sees him? Ron is not going and no one's going to tell him about the tournament!"

Shego felt her distrust of Kim's former rival diminish a bit. "Do I still qualify as a celebrity?" she asked. "You know: former international criminal…one of the Fearless Four that repelled the Lowardian Invasion?"

"That might work," Betty mused on the other end of the call. Perhaps Bonnie or Monique could pose as your caddy…"

"What about me?" Anne wanted to know.

"Bonnie has a point about Ron's profile," the director answered. "Since the Possible family was Killigan's victims, too, he'll either bolt or attack the moment he saw either you or Joss."

"What about the rest of us?" Marcella demanded.

"Yeah," Crystal chimed in.

Others echoed their sentiments.

"Sorry, ladies; I'm all out of celebrities at the moment."

"Um, I'm a celebrity," Heather pointed out from the outer doorway. "I'd like to help."

"I'm a celebrity, too," Britina added, removing her wig. "Count me in! And I know another celebrity who actually plays golf. She owes Kim a favor and I'm sure she'll be on board…"

**RSVP**

The Uptopian agent sat back in her chair in her scoutship and considered the audio and video being relayed to her data banks from the micro-bugs that she had secreted throughout the warehouse.

This gathering of The Subject's allies—"subject" sounding so much better than "target"—was eye-opening. Such loyalty and devotion indicated that this Ron Stoppable did not intimidate those who knew him. Rather, he inspired a desire to do him service and even protect him without his awareness or seeking reward.

Was it something in his character that inspired his following?

Or did he have some sort of psychic power—some mental mastery—that allowed him to control the hearts and minds of others?

This might prove a more sinister aspect of his mysterious powers and bore further investigation…

**RSVP**

She awoke to darkness. How long have I been asleep? She tried looking at her watch but the hands and numbers were too dim to make out.

That's okay, she decided. Time had little meaning for her right now. She would eat when she was hungry, sleep when she was tired, and run or fight when she had too. Schedules were meaningless here. And an hour in the game might be ten minutes—or an entire day—in the outside world.

She fumbled around for the flashlight that had been by her leg when she dozed off. Before she switched it on, she covered the lens with her hand so that the light escaped in dim, flesh colored bands. Even with the shades drawn and the curtains closed, she dared not give the creatures outside any evidence of her presence.

Reaching behind her, she pulled the comforter down off the bed and onto the floor beside her. Creating a sort of mini lean-to, she thrust the flashlight deep inside so that only a soft glow formed around the opening: enough for her to see by but not enough to betray her to anyone outside.

She began to catalog and organize her remaining supplies. She'd grabbed the knapsack to serve as a carryall but she had lucked out. Inside was a survival kit with an assortment of items, including a flare gun, compass, water purification gear, candles, a lighter, and freeze-dried meal packets. She wondered if the latter would be tastier than the stale bread she was munching on now as she emptied a couple of boxes of shells into each of her side pockets. Then she recombined the remaining boxes to stow more efficiently in the outer pouches of the backpack.

Carefully, methodically, she stowed her gear, making sure that the things most crucial to her survival were easily and quickly accessible in an emergency or a close-quarters fight.

Satisfied at last, she allowed herself to stand and stagger to the bathroom with the first-aid kit as the feeling slowly returned to her legs.

There was no window so she closed the door and turned on the light.

The image in the mirror was feral.

Her short black hair was tousled and wild, her dark eyes made darker still by the shadowy circles that ringed them now. Her dusky skin seemed very brown in contrast to the (mostly) white tee shirt. She took the scissors from the first-aid kit and began performing surgery on what was left of her top.

Her left sleeve was half torn away where one of the walkers had managed to grab a hold of her. She cut it the rest of the way off. Then the other sleeve to match. Her shoulders and upper arms looked like carved cherry wood. The side was torn where another had raked her with its nails. Likewise the front where she had torn a strip to bind up her arm. She snipped away the lower half of her shirt and tied a knot in the remaining material behind her back.

She slid the hunting knife in its sheath and clipped it to the twin holstered gun belt, which pulled the waist of her low-rise jeans even lower, putting a long expanse of her belly on display. Her hand brushed across the taut flesh below her navel and she shivered as she imagined undead mouths pressed to her skin, their snapping teeth slicing into her tummy, working deeper—_stop it! Stop it!_

She shook her head and turned away from the mirror, trembling.

_You're alone!_ she screamed at herself, inside her head. _No one's going to save you! No one's going to take care of you! You've got to keep it together; you're the only one you can depend on! _

She fought to get her breathing under control. The harsh rasp of air, in and out of her constricted lungs, was painful and ragged and unnaturally loud in her ears. Slowly, her chest quieted and she began to regain control.

But only for a moment.

For now she could hear something on the other sound of the bathroom door…

_The soft sound of long, claw-like fingernails scratching on wood!_

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "Ronnie's Angels" is, of course, a spoof off of "Charlie's Angels"—although Ron is more than a disembodied voice and has more than three resources at his behest.<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2: **

_**I had planned to get to the other side of the door before the end of this chapter—and a good deal more. Instead, I spent a little more time on Zita's strategy and actions. I really hate it when heroes and heroines are thrust into peril in horror movie situations and act stupidly. Zita has already proven herself to be an intelligent gamer and a problem-solver so I wanted to show how she thinks ahead and assesses every potential situation and threat.**_

* * *

><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 8<strong>

_**Here are the 2 reviews that were posted when this was Chapter 50 of the separate story file followed by the new stuff:**_

_Lar21s_  
><em>2011-12-05 . chapter 8<em>

Its a great story. I always read it as soon as I can.

About Mankey Ron said it best.

Monkeys are evil. Am I the only one that gets it. Monkey, Mankey?

**_Poor Josh. He usually gets the shaft in Fan Faction—abusive boyfriend, evil manipulator, etcetera—but it was Kim who was the not-so-good girl in the series episodes when Mankey was around (Ron's suspicions notwithstanding). _**

**_So here's a question for everyone. What common FanFiction tropes (personalities, relationships, standard sitches) are creations here on the FanFiction site as opposed to the actual series canon? _**

**_For example: was Tara really Bonnie's Best friend in the series? Or is that just a conceit that's been used in enough stories here that it's taken on the appearance of Kim Possible canon? _**

**_What other standards do you see repeated in the stories here that are not actually bourn out by the four seasons of the show? I find it interesting how we create and perpetuate our own "canon" here… R~13 (Still haven't decided about ole Josh in my story…)_**

* * *

><p><em>Pavelius<em>_  
><em>_2011-12-06 . chapter 8_

I voted for the Oh Boyz... sadly you cant combine them with SSJ... they would be the most evil instrument of doom ever... the Oh Boyz would do the moves and SSJ the tunes... everyone would surrender before they start the second line of the song ...

Anyway... for the last chapters... how many realities do we have now? 5? 6?

We have the "normal" realm with everybody, we have Ron's mind, we have the electronical realm, we have the enclosed space with Justine and the Tweebs, we have Tara's daydream and now we have Zita's predictment in the simulator... looks like some really messed up dimensional shit... maybe Justine was right :

I have no idea where you are heading this time, but thats no bad thing, because i like supprises and i am waiting for the next chapters...

Keep it up

Pavel

_**Hmmm…the O-Boyz were on my radar for Dark Kim—but subjugating them into serving as backup singers for Senior Senior Junior? Evil genius! Mwa-ha-ha-ha! And the best part? If I decide to use it, I just point at Pavelius and he gets the blame! Ah boo-yah-ha-ha-ha-ha! **_

_**Cough…cough…erm…technically Justine and the Tweebs are still in the "normal" realm. They're just working in the basement of the Possible home, concealed behind the force-field…**_

_**R~13**_

* * *

><p><em>Sentinel103 312/12 . chapter 8_

Nag nag nag, I calls em likes I sees em. You wanna do a million go ahead. I ain't stoppin' ya Rippy.

Mastermind is alive I know it...hummm maybe she became a belly dancer (shudder)

And Zita is having virtual fun? I wonder how long it's gonna be before Ron pulls her out?

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**Sentinel103: That's right, Larry: keep giving me ideas. You'll get the blame, too! R~13**_

* * *

><p><em>CajunBear73 312/12 . chapter 8_

Zita's gonna rue the day she got involved in that tech again... or maybe not?

AWOL Ron and ladies stacking up by the score to give him an assist. That boy really will have his work cut out for him when he makes it back, won't he?

CB73

_**"Work, work, work. Work, work, work. Work, work, work. Hello boys; have a good night's rest? I missed you!" Gov. William J. Le Petomane from "Blazing Saddles" (the signing scene). His work cut out for him, indeed! R~13**_

* * *

><p><em>masterbow 313/12 . chapter 8_

ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo ba be bada bada bo

i know im being silly i just cant help myself

_**Um…has Uberscribbler been loaning you his meds? R~13**_

* * *

><p><em>zafnak 723/13 . chapter 8_

Well I think I can answer your question about Tara. Given that she had little actual screen time, when you did see here she was usually with Bonnie's "click" of hangers on. The Kim Possible Character listing describes her as thusly..

Tara is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed cheerleader. Popular in her own right, she is one of Bonnie's sycophants. She had a crush on Ron early in Season 1, kissing him on the cheek after he saved the cheerleaders from Gil "Gill" Moss at Camp Wannaweep in Sink or Swim. However he was unaware she had a deeper interest in him until Emotion Sickness after she had started going out with Josh Mankey. By Steal Wheels she was dating an unnamed boy, and in So the Drama she went to the prom with Jason Morgan, the basketball team star forward. Tara has on occasion spent time with Kim (Oh Boyz), but when not at Bonnie's right shoulder, she is most often seen with left-shoulder sycophant and fellow cheerleader, Hope (long black hair, no mole).

While the Kim Possible Wiki page describes her thusly...

Tara is a blonde cheerleader who goes to Middleton High, and a friend of both Kim Possible and Bonnie Rockwaller. Tara is friendly and seems to be one of the favorites among the cheerleaders. Tara is generally unique, easy-going, outgoing and nice. Apparently she is boy crazy and can flirt easily. She gets along well with everyone and is popular in her own way. She usually panics when she is scared, and is kind of a follower.

So she seems at least to be part of Bonnie's posse. A friend surely, but Best Friend? Bonnie's ego and personality never seemed to allow anyone to measure up to that level. To be a "Besty" you need to be a peer, an equal, and in Bonnie's eyes, *nobody* is her equal.

So evidence seems weighted that any idea of Tara being Bonnie's best friend, her closest confident, her Tonto so to speak... is mostly Fanon.  
>But I say that just because its Fanon doesn't mean it should not be so! Maybe it SHOULD have been canon, had they bothered to care. It certainly humanizes both characters.<p>

Poor Tara was fairly underdeveloped as a character. I mean, they never even gave her a last name... but then they never bothered doing that with half of the cast, especially the cheer leading squad.

**_Wow! Good info!_**

**_Yeah, I have no problem with Tara being Bonnie's bestie as "Fanon." Or any of the other fanon floating about here. What intigues me is how much fanon is assumed by others to be actually series canon after awhile. I managed to record all of the Kim Possible episodes back when it was originally on the air and have since discovered them on You-tube, as well. However, I've run across comments by authors and readers alike indicating that they haven't seen all of the episodes (or even very many sometimes)-and even if you have, if it's been several years...well, you get my drift. We all read stuff here and its "freshrer" than our memories of an episode that we saw maybe seven years ago (or more) and suddenly the fanon is more concrete than the canon. And as most of us are writing outside of the "boundaries" of the original stories we keep recreating the KP mythos. Again, I'm not complaining, I just find it very interesting. Are there other examples of fanon that seems to have taken on the status of canor? R~13_**

* * *

><p><em>the Desert Fox<em> 7/24/13 . chapter 8

Good chapters. Ch. 6- Hmm, ah yes the old baseball metaphors. Personally I thought what each base meant varied with the person or group never major or minor leagues. So it wasn't a synthodrone, it was Kimmie, duh. Santa Claus? That's a new one. I never liked Zorpox. If Ron were to have an evil side, to me it would be more like the Brain or Lux Luthor from DC Comics or Ming the Merciless from Flash Gordon. Zorpox is like the child of Drakken and Anne.

Ch. 7- You know if you gave Ron a TARDIS and a sonic screwdriver he could be the Doctor. Both are athletic superheroes who are very smart, and have women chasing after them both good and bad. I was wondering when the aliens would show up again. Not to mention Electronique.

Ch. 8- Ronnie's Angels are a lot better looking than Charlie's Angels. Not to mention I liked John Forsythe better in the show Bachelor Father. I thought Ron was the master of disasters in Zombie Mayhem, and that Felix was the master of massacres.

I know what you mean. I've read Gundam fanfics where Duo refers to Wufei as Wu-man, and Quatre as Q-man. Then when I actually got around to watching the Gundam Wing, I learned that Duo never said it.

Keep up the good work.

**Yeah, there is no final agreement on the baseball metaphor (aside from maybe home plate), the girls' discussion of "Major League" and "Minor League" is merely their own opinions and they're not all in agreement on that. As for Zorpox? Zorpy is evolving and that's all that I'm going to say about that...for now...**

**Please stop talking to Pavelius-the TARDIS is supposed to be a surprise down the road... ;-)**

**I remember Bachelor Father-long before John Forsythe became Blake Carrington. In fact I've seen more episodes of B.F. than Dynasty and The Colbys put together! LOL. And then there was "Judd, For the Defense"! **

**I must confess that I have no real knowledge of the Gundam universe. R~13**

* * *

><p><em>Some Dude 831/13 . chapter 8 _

I wonder how many of those girls actually just want to help; and how many just want to have some brownie points with Ron.

**_I know that some of them have already grappled with this particular question...we'll see more of it down the road. R~13_**

* * *

><p><em>BartWLewis chapter 8 . 84/14_

Hopefully the mission to capture Killigon goes easier that it id in the original version.

_**Now why would I make anything easier in a rewrite? R~13**_


	9. Zita Mayhem

**Authors / Notes: **

**_Just a warning that this chapter is definitely anchored in "M" territory here…_**

**Required Disclaimer:**_ (To the Tune of "Ballroom Blitz" by Sweet)_

_Are you ready Ron? Uh-huh_  
><em>Kim? Yeah<em>  
><em>Shego? Okay<em>  
><em>Alright guys - let's go!<em>

_Oh it's been getting so hard_  
><em>Living with the things KP does to me<em>  
><em>Well things are getting so strange<em>  
><em>I'd like to tell you everything I see<em>

_Oh, I see a lawyer in the back as a matter of fact_  
><em>His eyes were as red as the sun<em>  
><em>And the judge in the corner that no one ignores<em>  
><em>Cause she thinks she's the passionate one<em>

_Oh Yeah! It was like lightning_  
><em>Everybody was frightening<em>  
><em>And the fanfic was soothing<em>  
><em>And they all started grooving<em>

_CHORUS_  
><em>Yeah, Yeah, Yeah-Yeah-Yeah<em>  
><em>And the lawyer in the back said everyone attack<em>  
><em>And it turned into a courtroom blitz<em>  
><em>And the judge in the corner said boy I want to warn you<em>  
><em>It'll turn into a courtroom blitz<em>  
><em>Courtroom blitz, courtroom blitz, courtroom blitz, courtroom blitz<em>

_Oh trying to write something_  
><em>When I'm owning nothing's all I ever do<em>  
><em>I have no legal standing<em>  
><em>Disney holds the rights, so there's nothing left for me or you<em>

_And the lawyer in the back is ready to crack_  
><em>As he raises his hands to the sky<em>  
><em>And the judge in the corner is everyone's mourner<em>  
><em>She could jail you with a wink of her eye<em>

_Oh Yeah! It was electric_  
><em>So frantically hectic<em>  
><em>And the jury started leaving<em>  
><em>Cause they all stopped breathing<em>

_CHORUS_  
><em>Yeah, Yeah, Yeah-Yeah-Yeah<em>  
><em>And the lawyer in the back said everyone attack<em>  
><em>And it turned into a courtroom blitz<em>  
><em>And the judge in the corner said boy I want to warn you<em>  
><em>It'll turn into a courtroom blitz<em>  
><em>Courtroom blitz, courtroom blitz, courtroom blitz, courtroom blitz<em>

_(The author of this fanfic implies no rights to the Kim Possible characters or story elements that are the creations and property of Walt Disney & Co. He certainly isn't getting paid for it. Ditto for twisting the lyrics to Ballroom Blitz.)_

**Chapter Nine – Zita Mayhem**

Dr. Vivian Frances Porter sat at her workbench and moped.

Once again she was alone in a lab while everyone else was out having fun. Or at least having a life of some kind. _God, it was just like Junior High!_

_And High School!_

_And College!_

_And Graduate School!_

_And her career ever since!_

_Looks didn't count for squat if all of the good guys were intimidated by your brains!_

_Or your looks!_

_Or your looks _and_ your brains!_

She wondered which it was that intimidated Ronald D. Stoppable.

She sighed: _that wasn't fair._ Why would someone like Ron be intimidated by either? He was the perfect man! Strong, sensitive, a great sense of humor, a more than decent guy—a hero many times over, in fact! It didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes and rich, to boot!

Not that the latter mattered to her as she was the only grandchild of Pop Pop Porter, one of the five richest men in the world! She knew a lot of rich guys as a result and most of them were sorry excuses for human beings. The interesting thing about young Mr. Stoppable was that his wealth hadn't seemed to corrupt him in any way.

Maybe he had learned an important lesson about handling money responsibly when he was younger…

In any event, if he ever might have been interested in her, she had missed her opportunity by now. He was surrounded by attractive women here and her encounters with him were always cordial and friendly, but professional and nothing more. He went out of his way to make her feel welcome and needed. And he'd shown her nothing but the utmost respect. _D__amn it!_

So, how could she get his attention when he seemed disinclined to look at her in a special way? How could she make herself a more fitting companion for a man who possessed some kind of awesome power that enabled him to devastate alien invasion fleets yet heal and care for the people around him?

She thought about his former life, when he was one-half of Team Possible. Kim Possible was a hero who had cast a long shadow—and Ron had been practically anonymous, hidden by that shadow. It hadn't stopped him from being loyal and committed, a do-the-right-thing kind of guy with no expectation of reward or recognition.

Kim was out of the picture, now—at least for the time being—and Ron was just one, where once there were two. He _needed_ a partner—even if it was only an inexperienced sidekick who would mostly serve as the new distraction.

Maybe she could be his sidekick.

His partner…

She picked up one of plasma generators that they had recovered from the Shego-imposter and began to smile.

Maybe she could be more than just…a distraction.

**RSVP**

Zita pulled both Glocks from the holsters at her hips and stepped back from the bathroom door. Staring at the doorknob, she waited for it to turn preemptory to the intruder's attack.

It remained stationary for the moment.

_Think!_ her mind insisted. _If there's just one of them, you could use the knife! A gunshot will draw any others within earshot and you'll have to abandon your hidey-hole and go on the run, again. In the dark!_

_On the other hand, if there's two or more, you'll have to come out, both guns blazing!_

_Calm down and prioritize_, she told herself. _Think through your options…_

_If there's only one on the other side of this door, the hunting knife up through an eye socket and into the brain should do the trick and be silent enough to avoid alerting any nearby undead. _

_If there's two…or more…_she would have to shoot and cover be damned! She'd have to scoop up the backpack and what supplies she could and beat a hasty retreat before the others closed in….

She holstered the gun at her right hip and drew the hunting knife from its sheath. Gripping the hilt with her thumb capping the end, she brought her arm up across her chest and turned her hand to point the nine-inch blade out and slightly up in anticipation of a hammered thrust to the creature's skull. She tightened her grip on the gun in her left hand, hoping she could shoot well enough if there was more than one. She forced her finger to relax on the trigger: using the knife would be silly if she discharged her firearm out of needless reflex.

She reached out and turned off the light. Waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

The air inside the hotel room was closed and stifling.

Inside the smaller bathroom even more so.

She felt trickles of sweat oozing trails down her face and between her breasts, wicking the cotton tight against her aching nipples. More perspiration wove glistening trails down her fluttering belly and formed a small pool in her navel before overflowing its pouting shoreline and continuing southwards.

She wished the damned thing—or things—could have waited another hour. She could have showered or bathed. Felt clean and refreshed before going into battle once more. By now they could probably smell her: the stink of fear and blood and sweat. Maybe they preferred their meals that way. She was damp all over now: her perspiration giving her flesh the sheen of salty goodness—just the right seasoning for a zombie snack.

She bared her teeth in a silent snarl and decided that if _It_ wasn't going to come in, then she would take the fight to _It,_ instead! She reached out and clumsily twisted the door handle with her gun hand, and yanked it open.

**RSVP**

Bonnie Rockwaller stormed across the Upperton campus like a lithe thundercloud.

Fellow students—and even staff and faculty—quickly moved out of her path as she stalked the sidewalks, maneuvered the hallways, and cut across The Commons toward her dormitory. She was traveling on autopilot as her thoughts were as stormy as the expression on her face.

Her thoughts _and_ her emotions.

The man responsible for the deaths of Ron's parents—and the Possible family—had been discovered! And a plan was taking shape to bring him to justice!

But why should she care?

Ron was still unconscious—apparently a side effect of trying some kind of monkey mojo first-aid on that Sheila person.

Aside from the fact that he was sort of her part-time employer, she really didn't have any stake in the current situation…

_Did she?_

And why did it bug her so about his weird arrangement with a warehouse full of hotties? It wasn't like he was having some kind of orgy-fest. Everything was presumably professional. After all, she was a hottie and their relationship was strictly professional.

Unconsciously, her hands tightened into fists.

No, it had more to do with the froob's elevated social standing, she was sure.

She had worked hard over the past number of years to become a success, a person—no, a _force_—to be reckoned with.

She had honed her body and her athletic skills until she had no equal—save for Kim "The Spoiler" Possible!

She had pushed herself to excel academically and should have been high school valedictorian—except for…yeah, you guessed it.

She had cultivated all of the right people as her friends and associates, surrounded herself with a posse of the high school glitterati. Embraced all of the trendy styles, accumulated a wardrobe and accessories to die for, and fought her way to the top of the food chain…

…for what?

Only to see it all crumble and disintegrate at graduation with the Lowardian Invasion and the subsequent transition to College Nobody.

Meanwhile, her two high school nemeses had become international sensations. And her only path to social elevation was suddenly tied to the mistaken assumption that she was somehow the froob's girlfriend!

_Where had that crazy idea come from?_

Sure, there had been a couple of times back at Middleton High…

But everyone was hanging on Stoppable when he was a millionaire those few, all-too-short days.

And no one could say that it was her fault that she and Ron had been voted as homecoming queen and king. It had been her "duty" to socialize with him then.

But Angela and some of the other girls were acting like someone was actually going around campus and telling people that she and Ron Stoppable were an item.

But who?

And why?

As soon as she got back to her room she would check to make sure that her diary was still locked and secured inside her security box under her bed. Because there was no other way…

Her stride faltered.

The last few weeks seemed a little hazy to her recall. Had something happened?

She began racking her brain as she entered her dormitory and started up the stairs toward the eighth floor. The elevator would have been easier—not to mention faster—but Bonnie Rockwaller was serious about her body and believed that form and fitness came at a price.

She remembered that her sisters had been kidnapped and that Ron had apparently been along for the ride when she and some others had gone on the mission to rescue them. But the details of that event, she now realized, seemed a bit hazy.

What else?

As she pounded up the stairs she realized that there were other gaps or hazy spots in her memories of the last month or so…

Now she was more than annoyed, she was a little frightened!

She was so distracted by this sudden, new perspective, that she almost passed her floor, then almost passed the door to her room. She unlocked her door and was halfway to her bed before she realized that she was not alone.

Sitting on her bed were her two most hated and feared adversaries! Both wore evil smiles!

"Hello, Bon Bon!" Connie said.

"Goodbye, Bon Bon!" Lonnie said.

Strong arms grabbed her from behind and a strip of duct tape was placed over her mouth.

A canvass bag was pulled over her head and Bonnie heard an unfamiliar voice say: "Take her!"

**RSVP**

Tara took her time in getting up: she was still a little weak in the knees.

Checking once more to see that Ron was sleeping peacefully and not in distress, she made her way into his bathroom on wobbly legs.

"Oh my goodness!" she whispered as she turned on the water in the sink and splashed a little onto her flushed face. "Th-that was a-muhm-mazing!"

_But it wasn't real_, she thought.

Was it?

She slowly unbuttoned her blouse (again?) and considered her bra. Was it inside-out when she put it on this morning? She didn't think so. She slipped it off and took a washcloth from the rack near the sink.

Wetting the soft cloth, she took the equivalent of a quick sponge bath, trying to freshen up a bit and cool down her burning skin at the same time. She could swear that she could still feel the residual heat from his kisses, fiery trails across her breasts and down her torso where his lips had brushed her skin and his teeth had nibbled a little deeper. All the way down to her—_oh!_

_Ah…!_

_Again, a little…_

_Mmmmmmm…._

Well…now she would have to go back to her room and change her panties.

For now…she unbuckled her pants and dropped them to the floor. As she bent over to step out of her soaked underwear, she felt his presence behind her. Before he even touched her she could feel his hands grasp her creamy hips and waited for him to yank her back against him.

Nothing happened.

She looked behind her: he wasn't there.

She peeked through the doorway: he was still asleep on the bed.

_Tara King, you are a very naughty, slutty girl!_ she scolded herself.

She turned back into the bathroom and picked up her thoroughly drenched panties. She hurriedly rinsed them out in the sink, wrung out the excess water, and draped them over the towel rack. Running the washcloth under the water again, she freshened up below, taking a little extra time here to make sure that she was really clean. The roughened texture of the material was stimulating where it touched her more sensitive places and she was meticulous in thoroughly visiting every secret place where she might be…less than fresh.

She knew she should wait until she was back in her own bathroom—she certainly shouldn't be doing it here…

…with the bathroom door wide open…

…with him in the next room…on the bed…

…and taking so long that he might wake up…

…and see her…

Her other hand crept up to her breast where she rubbed its swollen pulchritude. The nipple grew hard and turgid against her palm and she moved it so the pink, eraser-like nub could peek between her fingers. As she slowly kneaded her aching flesh, she spread and closed her fingers in a repetitive rhythm that pinched her nipple between her second and third digits. Twin waves of pleasure emanated from below and above, flowing into her stomach like twin tributaries that met together to form a raging sea.

She began to breathe more heavily, now, gasping occasionally as another wave of pleasure crashed through her core.

Glancing up, she saw him in the mirror. He was watching her pleasure herself. And he was smiling, his eyes wide with delight. She gasped in surprise. And pleasure.

But she did not stop.

She locked eyes with his reflection and turned her slow bump-and-grind into a performance, a dance just for him. And in doing so, she repaid herself as the folding and unfolding sensations deep inside picked up speed. The intensity grew until she began to clench and bear down on an imaginary intruder, a spectacular presence that had arrived to take up residence in that hidden room. Gasping, she began to shudder, and dropped the washcloth so that she could grab onto the edge of the lavatory before her legs gave out from under her.

She glanced behind her to see if he would come to hold her now but the doorway was empty.

She looked back at the mirror and his reflection was still there.

_What the hell?_

**RSVP**

The door flew open and banged against the inner wall of the hotel bathroom as Zita danced out of its way and tensed her arm for the knife strike.

_There was nothing on the other side._

Her room appeared to be just was it was before she left it. Nothing leapt out at her; no one was there.

The sound of her labored breathing deafened her for a moment and she made a slow, careful reconnaissance of all of her lines of sight as she eased back into the bedroom.

Nothing.

Another minute passed and she slowly sheathed her knife and holstered her gun. But she picked up the sheathed machete and slung it across her back for good measure. _Great_, she thought as she checked her knapsack and moved it to a chair next to the bathroom door; _how'm I gonna take a shower or a bath wearing this arsenal? _

Still she wasn't crazy about taking any of it back off.

And then she heard it again: the scratching on the other side of the door!

Only it was louder, now…

It was coming from the other side of the door, across the room: the one that led into the adjoining suite!

_Okay! Okay!_ she thought as her breath caught in her throat. _Choices…options…_

She could stay where she was and do absolutely nothing until morning. Whatever was on the other side wasn't going to claw its way through the heavy, hardwood door before tomorrow…

The wooden barrier suddenly shuddered as something bumped against it!

She held her breath and waited.

Something bumped up against it again—as if whatever had been scraping at the impediment to its warm-blooded meal had grown impatient and was taking the issue of ingress to the next level.

_Okay! Doing nothing is not going to be a long-term option…_

She looked around. She could unlock and open the door—same strategy as in the bathroom.

She could go out the door leading into the hallway. From there she could retreat down the stairs or circle around to the adjacent room and come up behind _It_…

But here she was assuming that what was outside of either door was an "it" and not a "them." Opening either door could mean an overwhelming onslaught.

Her third choice was out the window and down the fire escape. Trying to reach the ground from the outside of the building would reveal her to anything out in the streets on this side of the hotel and she might find a larger welcoming committee down in the alleyway than up here…

_Decisions, decisions…_

The door shook again as the thing on the other side redoubled its efforts to break through.

_Okay, bitch!_ she thought furiously, _you can try to eat me but I won't let you fuck with me!_ Her left hand redrew the Glock but her right hand went over her shoulder and pulled the machete from its sheath.

She stepped to the connecting door and unsnapped the privacy lock. Yanking the door open she jumped back and raised the long-bladed weapon over her head.

It staggered into the room smelling like a charnel house.

Tall and gaunt, it reached out for her with surprising quickness. She took two more steps back to evade its claws and get enough room for a power swing…and went down as the edge of the bed hit the backs of her legs!

As she fell back onto the mattress, the thing fell on top of her. She barely had time to put the machete between her and the monster before it was hovering above her face!

The blade punched through the creature's chest: a killing wound for a living human being. Instead, the zombie ignored its impalement, slowly sliding down the long blade toward her, its blackened teeth snapping like some reptilian mangling machine.

It stank of death. Not the dry-rot, musty smell of the desiccated dead. But the oily, stomach roiling stench of liquefying putrescence. A greasy stew of collapsing soft tissues marinated in spoiled blood and spiced with slithering, worms and maggots.

She tried to bring her gun up to its misshapen skull but the thing's arm kept blocking her shot as it flailed at her, gouging her chest and shoulder with its blackened nails. She felt herself giving in to the urge to scream but she couldn't draw the necessary breath as its weight pressed down upon her and the miasma of its stink filled her nose and mouth.

Suddenly the gun was wrenched out of her hand, sealing her doom.

The creature reared back, looking like some great cobra making its death-strike!

Except it didn't.

_It turned into a unicorn, instead!_

**RSVP**

"How is he?" the blonde roboticist asked as Monique labored over her sketch pad.

"Don't know," the fashion diva answered as she sketched a series of matching glove and boot ensembles. "Tara would let us know if there was news, one way or another. She hasn't come out…or let any of us in, yet."

Vivian frowned. "Shouldn't somebody check on them?"

"Why?" Monique stopped drawing, looked up, and cocked an eyebrow. "Do you think something unseemly could be going on behind closed doors?" She laughed. "Oh, V! You gotta know that Ron is the perfect gentleman…"

Vivian raised her own eyebrow as she caught the whispered: "Dammit!"

"…and Tara," Monique continued, "is so sweet and innocent that we're not sure if she actually knows where babies come from, yet!"

Dr. V.F. Porter giggled a very un-Mensa-like giggle. "I guess you're right. I'm just worried about him."

"Girl, we all are. You should have been at the meeting! If that crazy golfer thought that Kim Possible could bring the pain, he won't know what hit him once the Estrogen Brigade is done W.H.S.A."

"Um, W.H.S.A.?"

"With his sorry ass!" Monique elaborated.

"I would have been there if I'd known there was going to be a formal meeting."

"Nothing formal about it. It started out with Shego naked—"

"I'll bet that was something to see."

"You have _no_ idea! Anyway, there will be a formal meeting tomorrow morning."

"Downstairs?"

"Not if Ron's awake. Everyone's under strict orders to keep him out of the loop. If he asks you anything, you don't know nothin'! The girl that spills the mission to Baby Boy faces D.B.S. or D.B.B.!"

The physicist pondered the paired acronyms. "Death by Shego or Death by Bonnie," she concluded.

"You got it. Just make sure that _you_ don't get it!" She turned her pad around. "Any of these strike your fancy?"

Vivian contemplated the lines and configurations of the boot and glove combinations. "The third set, I think. At least they provide me with what I need in terms of the cuffs."

Monique frowned. "Maybe you better tell me more about what it is exactly that you need? I ain't just throwing together some sort of fashion mish-mash here."

The blonde leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Promise to keep this under wraps for a while?"

"Sure! I'm no gossip!"

Vivian gave her a look.

"My talent for talking out of school is vastly over-exaggerated!"

"Talk out of school about this before I'm ready and you'll have to worry about D.B.V.!"

Monique raised her hands. "I hear you, girlfriend."

"Well, I've reverse-engineered those plasma-generators that the fake Shego left behind when she shrunk and escaped. At first I was going to build some additional bracers—only improved. But as I started laying out the component breakdowns and looking at what I could micro-miniaturize, I decided to increase their power potential while fine-tuning the delivery system!"

"How 'bout I make you a deal?" Monique interrupted. "I won't use any of my catchphrase shorthand for the rest of this conversation if you will explain it to me in English?"

"The bracers that faux-Shego was using created a magnetic donut around her hands so that the projector nozzles could surround her hands with plasma without actually burning them. But that safety feature reduces your targeting and delivery efficiency by more than half. I want to separate out the delivery hardware by building the projection components into a pair of protective gloves. By creating multiple delivery plates on portions of the palms and fingers, the plasma can be streamed in a variety of combinations—ranging from the full-handed blast to the fingertip micro-burst. Brute force or precision cutting tool—with all sorts of options in-between."

"I think I follow you so far."

"Then," Vivian continued excitedly, "the bracers could be scaled down to be a little less bulky as they would serve only as generators without the additional demands of having to store the energy at one end or deliver it at the other."

"So the gloves serve as your delivery component and the smaller bracers serve as the generators," Monique reviewed. "But you mentioned fuel storage. These things have to have some kind of batteries, right?"

"More like fuel cells. But batteries serve as an acceptable analogy. They'll be placed in the suit, itself. Or on a belt. Or something."

"So," Monique pondered, "you'll be wanting something like Shego's cat suit. Something to protect you from the neck down…"

"No. That's the best part!" Vivian enthused. "I was noticing how the orangish plasma from these generators differed in frequency from Shego's green version. I wanted to develop protective clothing for her in case there was another encounter. But then I got to thinking how protection against the plasma from these generators wouldn't work so well if this person made adjustments to change the spectrum frequency a little more in either direction. So I started playing with counter frequencies and changed from an embedded fabric solution to a tunable field-effect."

"Say again?"

"It's like that magnetic donut effect generated by the original bracers but enlarged and created out of multi-phase, infinite-tuning frequencies that negate the entire spectrum of plasma energies. The suit doesn't have to cover my skin to protect it; I just need enough material for the phase emitters to project the field over my silhouette."

Monique just sat and stared at her. "It's a force field, right?" she asked finally. "You're talking about an invisible, plasma-resistant force field that covers your body like a second skin."

"Didn't I just say that?"

"Okay, how much?"

Vivian blinked. "How much what?"

"How much of this magic material do you need to take care of the batteries and the…?"

"Emitter array? Less than what I have on right now."

Monique eyed the curvy blonde's micro-mini skirt and minimal tube-top. "You're shitting me."

**RSVP**

Of course the Zombie didn't really turn into a unicorn.

It just looked like a horn emerged from its forehead.

It collapsed with a sigh but, instead of falling back down on top of her, it drifted upwards like a saggy balloon. Then it turned and floated back through the door and into the other suite.

A dark, shadow figure walked along behind it, holding the other end of the spike that it had just driven through the zombie's skull.

Zita began to shake and could barely prop herself up on her elbows to watch the macabre and incomprehensible sight.

Her confused relief was short-lived, however, as the dark shape returned and rushed toward her as she opened her mouth to scream.

**RSVP**

"Tara?" Shego knocked on the door a little more forcefully this time. "Tara? It's Sheila. I'd like to come in."

Still no answer.

"Hey, getting a little concerned here," she called through the bedroom door. "As Chief of Security, it's my job to know that Ron's all right!" _That you're not taking advantage of him in his unconscious state,_ she thought. _Wow! Paranoid much?_ "It's been a little too quiet in there. I need to know that the two of you haven't been kidnapped or are being held under duress…" She shook her head. "Joking! Ha ha." But she wasn't. She was thinking about the mysterious incursion through Ron's bedroom window. "Seriously, Blondie; I'm about five seconds away from burning through this lock! One. Two. Three…"

The lock rattled and the door was slowly opened by a somewhat disheveled platinum blonde. "Oh…hello Shego…" She smiled dreamily. "Did you knock? I thought…maybe I heard something…"

Shego pushed past her and looked at her charge lying on the bed. He was barely covered by a hastily arranged sheet. She had a strong impression that he was naked underneath. _Maybe you should check to make sure…_

He was still unconscious but there was a disturbing, goofy-looking grin plastered across his face.

Shego spun and glared at Tara: her swollen lips were pulled upwards in a nearly identical match. Her clenched fists began to smolder.

**RSVP**

At the same time, in a universe far, far away…Ron Stoppable hammered his fists against the walls of a featureless room without doors or windows.

"Zorpox!" he roared.

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: <strong>**_"Zita Mayhem" is a play on words from the title of Ron's favorite game series: _****Zombie Mayhem****_._**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 9<strong>

_Sentinel103 3/14/12 . chapter 9_

Hummm it's been a while but I thought that was performed by Slade in '73 (Top of the Pops...BBC)...Gah yeah I'm that old geesh.

So Zita is getting virtual whacked huh? Then Tara is getting feelings and damn come to think of it so is every other girl...cept Bonnie and she gets sister nabbed.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**Checking the Wikipedia article, I don't see Slade listed but it's entirely possible. Over the years I've seen many omissions from more official documentation. Frankly, I was surprised to see that the original went back that far. From my own increasingly unreliable memory, I would have guessed the eighties for the original debut. R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 314/12 . chapter 9_

Got some serious white rabbit falling down the hole moments here, Alice...

So Bonnie's got some problems outside of and including that of her sisters? Oh boy.

And Zorpox seems to be just getting underway with his form of Whack too.

CB73

_**"Whack"? First Larry and now you: is that what you kids are calling "it" now days? Guess I just know the old fashioned "slang". (lol) R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 314/12 . chapter 9_

Well you said I didn't buy this was serious story so I gave you a less than serious review last time dont worry that out of my system. From what I remember of the last time this chapter came up it wasn't nearly as good so great job on the rewrite.

_**Aw, c'mon: you know I wasn't serious about being serious… R~13**_

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><p><em>Pavelius 314/12 . chapter 9_

I can assure, that i am reading this... but as my profile says... i seriously suck at constant reviewing, if in my view nothing has to be said...

When the chapter is fine, it is fine... so why writing additional stuff?

Keep it up

Pavel

_**Okay…but I still need the occasional attaboy, now and then… ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>Desert Fox 725/13 . chapter 9 _

So are you the "Brian Connolly" of the group? I think I see Shego more as "Steve Priest" than "Mick Tucker"; Drakken as "Andy Scott"; Kim as "Brian Connolly" and I think Mego as "Mick Tucker", but that's just me. BTW: In the original version, Brian and I think Steve split the vocals. Brian sings the verses and Steve does the part about the girl in the back. The band all sings the chorus. Mick has really cool stick twirling in this or was it on the song "Fox on the Run". Just check out the music videos for the Sweet.

Zita Mayhem. I like better than that annoying "Mayhem guy" from the All-State commercials. There was only one valedictorian? Gee when my siblings and I graduated from high school, we had more than one. My brother was salutatorian.

I was referring to Zorpox in the cartoon. What you do with him, should be interesting. Pavelius? I made that observation on my own. I've been watching the new incarnations of Doctor Who for the past 3 years, which I like a lot better than the old ones which used to scare the Dickens out of me. The Gundam series is too long of an explanation. To put it in simple words: Long running anime series about space wars involving giant robots. They are no aliens, just wars between various factions. Have been airing in Japan since 1979 and ran for a time in the U.S. between 2000 and 2009.

**_Woah! Finally a review-or at least a response-to one of my disclaimers! Just for that I will have to put a "Desert Fox" reference in the story somewhere. Yeah, I know: I tease Pavelius for usually knowing what I'm going to do next-or maybe three steps down the road. He's usually right far more often than he's wrong. I know what you mean about the old Doctors-they really were more "alien" than Doctor Who: The Next Generation. And I sorta know the overview of the Gundam series or concept but that's pretty much it. Sigh, there's only so much fandom that one can follow or keep up with. I've barely scratched the surface of KP fanfic. R~13_**

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><p><em>JDSeay725/13 . chapter 9_

i read from the first book and continued right along into this one and it has been an amazing journey. I have enjoyed every twist and turn, loopback, and surprise you have sent our way and cant wait to see where you go next. on the zita issue since she was in the machine was she safe from ron's mmp is that why she can remember him. Also i have been a big supporter of ron/tara/bonnie/shego union and with this twist with tara and zorpox i cant wait to see how it will turn out. I can see zorpox as the suave villian devious to his core to manipulate people to do what he wants and i also can see his as the doctor as well

**_Well, the deterioration of Ron's memory patch will unravel differently for each person. Some of that will be peculiar to the individual but other factors will come into play, as well. Distance, proximity, propinquity, and technology are all factors in this. The trickiest relationship in this story will be the one that Ron has with Zorpox... R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 831/13 . chapter 9 _

I kind of feel bad for Zorpox. Once Ron gets out of... wherever he is, he's going to turn Zorpox into mincemeat.

**_Might be kind of hard to do that without harming himself. R~13_**

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><p><em>CgC chapter 9 . 812/14_

Very good time I read the first chapter of RSVP I want to bail out because it was to strange but I continued to read and I find a very good story with a complicate and mind blowing only autor I find who write story this complex is Sentinel with Once again arc story and The hunter please continue to update because I want to know what happen in the if you don't mind to I want to mention the fact that Ron is very smart(the Zorpox episode,the Mad Dog costume,the Naked Mole Rat rap).He may find balance and accept the fact that he is made from both good and evil(you cannot be whole if you reject half of your personality).And if someone say that Zorpox intelect was Dr Drakken,let's  
>not forget that Drakken was cappable to invent even it was good,so Ron inte<p>

_**Thanks, C.**_

_**Yeah, the whole Ron-as-a-genius is very interesting territory and we'll be exploring it a bit more down the road-along with the question of where does Ron leave off and Zorpox begin. There's a very interesting story somewhere around this site (the name and author escape me at the moment) where we learn that Ron has a "Caretaker" personality who keeps Ron's genius side suppressed so that he doesn't become evil and take over the world. It's a unique take even with all of the Zorpox stories that are already out there. I'm hoping that this rewrite will clear up some of these issues that weren't as well written before. R~13**_


	10. A Little Ronshine

**Authors / Notes: Okay, if I wasn't clear before, let me say this again: THIS WILL BE THE LAST CHAPTER THAT I WILL POST UNTIL I GET SOME FEEDBACK ON THE "NAMES" ISSUE.**

****I need some last names! ****

****For Elle (Electronique), for starters.****

****For Crystal and Hope and Liz, just to name three of the cheerleaders who still lack names.****

****Let's not forget Britina and Heather, for that matter.****

****And any other characters missing last names would be appreciated, as well. ****

****They can be names that turn up frequently in other works or can be totally original but they need to make some kind of sense for the character(s) and I need to like them well enough to use them. ****

****If I use your suggestion(s) I'll reward you in some sort of (probably multiple choice) way-put you in the story, reveal a plot secret-depends on the value of your contribution...****

****But I can't post any more chapters until I have some more KP Universe names! ****

****Drop me a PM, leave 'em in a review.****

****Thanks!****

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ ("A Few Good Fen" Trial Transcript)_

Disney Attorney (who looks like Tom Cruise): Did you write KP Fanfic?

My Attorney: You don't have to answer that.

Me (looking suspiciously like Jack Nicholson): I'll answer the question! (To Disney) You want answers?

Disney Attorney: I think we're entitled to…

Me: _You want answers?_

Disney Attorney: I want the sitch!

Me: _You can't handle the sitch!_ Son, we live in a world where the last new Kim Possible episode aired September 7th of 2007. There are fans out there who want more! Who's gonna give them more? You? You, DisneyCorp? You haven't even bothered to release Seasons 3 and 4 on DVD, yet! We Fanfic authors have more responsibility than you can fathom. You weep for the purity of the canon and curse the amateur storytellers. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. Our pathetic scribblings preserve KP fandom. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, keeps the flame alive! You don't want the sitch because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties—you want me on that website, you _need_ me on that website. We use words like: shipping, alternate universe, lemon. We use these words as the backbone of a life defending and preserving something. You use them as a punch-line! I have neither the time nor inclination to explain myself to a conglomerate that retains all of the rights but won't do anything more with them. I would rather you just said "Thank you" and went on your way. Otherwise, write me a check because I'm certainly not getting paid for this!

Disney Attorney: Did you write the RSVP saga?

Me: I did what any red-blooded KP fan…

Disney Attorney: Did you write the RSVP saga?

Me: You're )$^*#( I did!

(With apologies to _**A few Good Men**_)

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten - A Little Ronshine<strong>

"Hoo-sha!" Jim Possible crowed—or was it Tim Possible? Justine still couldn't be sure after living with both for weeks under conditions that were tantamount to "house arrest." He pumped his fist in the air and announced: "I'm in!"

His brother and Justine Flanner joined him at the bank of computer monitors. `

"How many rooms?" Tim asked. Or was it Jim?

"The first question isn't how many rooms but how many cameras in Mastermind's lair," Justine corrected. "Look for Mastermind's personal quarters. While he may have eyes on his prisoners and his perimeters, there are probably parts of his lair where he feels no need for security cameras."

"Unless he's really kinky," Jim—or Tim—_oh hell_, she thought, _I'm just arbitrarily assigning names until I'm told otherwise—Jim_ added with a smarmy grin on his too-young face.

"Yes, well, if you can pull up a feed on his personal quarters it will make gathering intel that much easier," she answered. "But right now I'm more interested in where that cloaked madman is keeping his hostages!"

Assigning a series of numbers to the different camera feeds, the Possible twins began building a database and assigned their best initial guess to each view: kitchen, storage, armory, lab—more than one, in fact. The third lab turned up two disturbing images.

"Holy—"

"—cow!"

"DNAmy!" Jim and Tim chorused.

Justine frowned over their shoulders. "Dr. Amy Hall," she observed. "Well, this isn't good."

"It's worse than that," Tim said.

"See that guy with her?" Jim asked.

"Lord Montgomery Fiske," Tim qualified.

"Monkey-Fist," Jim elaborated.

"What about him?" Justine asked.

"He's dead," the boys answered in unison.

"Had some kind of run-in with an ancient Japanese spirit…"

"…got turned to stone…"

"…dragged down to the deepest…"

"…underground…"

"…parts of the earth," they explained in their inimitable fashion.

"If he's back then this can't be good!"

"Right," Justine said. Her eyes narrowed. "But for now, keep looking!"

Tim zipped through a series of screens until they had eyes on a double row of cells in what appeared to be the basement level.

"There!" she shouted. "Zoom in!"

Tim turned and looked at her. "If I change any of the camera's settings it could alert someone that their security system is compromised."

She sighed. "I know that. I meant, enlarge and enhance the image using the clarifying software at this end."

Jim reached over and tapped a series of keys. The picture wavered and enlarged. The pixels re-clarified and produced a larger and clearer image of the two occupants presently being held in the makeshift prison.

One was Adrena Lynn. And the other was…

"My Pookie-bear!" Justine squealed in a very un-Flanner-like voice.

The tweebs looked at the grainy image of Felix Renton and then at each other. Out of respect for the female genius, their rescuer from the rogue ninjas, and the best hope for the Possible and Stoppable clans, they refrained from making gagging noises.

But only just barely.

**RSVP**

Captain Shaula Lesath was organizing her notes on the Stoppable minions, trying to see if there was a discernible pattern approaching the similarity to an Uptopian q'roon when she noticed another taxonomy of classification for some of them. A subset could be grouped under the designation: Cheerleader.

What a "Cheerleader" did or what their purpose was was unclear to her at this point. Apparently they had banded together as some kind of herd in the past and may have worn some sort of identical dress-uniform.

In any event, the Uptopian agent was able to put together a working list of eight, so far.

At the top of her list was the mysterious Kim Possible, apparently the commanding officer of this Cheerleader Squad.

She was the daughter of this Anne Possible and, like her mother, had red colored hair. There was some question as to the mysterious, former leader's eye color: perhaps green or maybe blue...but the uncertainty was due to both, her absence and the confusion over her mother seeming to claim the same identity at times.

This Kim was said to possess a dominating personality, possible matching that of her former co-commander, Bonnie Rockwaller.

The brown-haired female possessed a more grating personality and apparently was not well-loved by the other Cheerleaders under her former command. Appearance and social status were primary issues for her, apparently masking deep-seated insecurities and emotional neediness.

At the other end of the popularity spectrum was the Cheerleader with the whitish blonde hair named Tara King. Considered sweet-natured, beautiful, and surprisingly smart by the others, she appeared to be a subtle favorite of the Stoppable and she appeared to have deep though hidden feelings for him. This one would bear more watching Lesath decided.

Two of the Cheerleaders were similar in appearance, both possessing epidermal coverings of a darker hue, dark eyes, and long, jet-black hair. Marcella and Hope. She did not know either one's ancestral name. She knew very little about either of them except that Marcella had a mole at the corner of her upper lip and Hope had an epicanthic fold at the inner corners of her eyes indicating her ancestry derived from the portion of the planet known as Asia. Marcella seemed to have a temperament more like that of Kim's and Bonnie's while Hope was more like Tara in being sweet-natured. Both shared a love of music and seemed to be very close to each other-closer than any of the others were to each other.

Then there was the one named Crystal. Wavy brunette hair, exotic eyes, and caramel colored skin. A student of psychology and an instructor of dance. Even more of an enigma than the last two. Like Hop and Marcella, the Uptopian did not know her last name, either.

There were two others: Liz and Jessica. A redhead and a blonde. Both had disappeared a few weeks back and, so, were inconsequential for now.

Four other females, classified as "Alternates," were acquaintences but did not seem to be as close to the Stoppable as the others. The one called W.C. had curly brown hair as well as skin and an accent like the one called Zita. Maggie bore a strong resemblance to the Stoppable and also the pictures she had seen of the missing girl named Jessica. Ashley's skin was even darker than the female named Monique. Linda had wavy, brown hair with green eyes...

The Uptopian agent rubbed her eyes and considered taking something for her growing headache. It was a good thing these potentials for a Stoppable q'roon were Earhians, with all of the variable hues and colors for skin, eyes, and hair! Her people tended to be more consistent in hair and skin tones and sifting through the same number of her fellow Uptopian females would have been way more confusing! Good thing she was the only one...

Wait...

What?

She hadn't meant it _that_ way!

Had she?

**RSVP **

Bonnie Rockwaller couldn't believe it.

As mean as her sisters had been to her for all of the years that she had struggled in their collective shadows, she never would have believed that they would be involved in a criminal act against her. Especially since she had recently been involved in their rescue from that tropical island!

Assault and kidnapping—she shivered a little: that might not be the worst of it. Now that she was helpless and unable to defend herself, what might her unknown captors do with her? Hold her for ransom?

If she was lucky.

If she wasn't…

Murder?

A fate worse than death?

Followed by death?

But even more unbelievable: how did they get her out of her room and into the back of what was presumably a van in broad daylight on a busy college campus?

Right after the bag had been dropped over her head, she had been gagged and backed up against what felt like a two-wheel dolly and duct-taped to the upright cradle. Then she had been wheeled to the elevator and taken down to the basement (she had counted the "floor sounds") of the dorm building where she was rolled up a loading ramp to the getaway vehicle waiting outside.

It seemed impossible that no one had seen anything suspicious but the campus was a half-an-hour's drive behind her now and her trail was growing colder by the mile.

She'd tried to catalog anything that might offer a clue as to where they were taking her: sounds, stops, turns, quality of road surface. She didn't know what good it would do but Bonnie was a fighter. And she'd arm herself with whatever her mind and heart could provide while her hands and feet were still bound.

And one, new, bright and shiny weapon in that arsenal was the thought that Middleton High's former homecoming king might turn into her knight in shining armor before it was too late.

**RSVP**

Zita Flores tried to scream but something covered her mouth before she could make a sound.

It was a hand.

A shadowy face came toward hers too fast to make out any features.

"Sshhhhhh," a strangely familiar voice hissed in her ear. "Amp down, Zita! The building's clear except for that one. But it won't stay that way if you do your impression of a fire alarm!"

_Ron? _

_Ron Stoppable?_

She threw her arms around him as his face swam out of the darkness. She smiled against the palm of his hand and then began to cry from equal amounts of repressed terror and grateful relief.

**RSVP**

"What's wrong with it?" Shego wanted to know.

Dr. Porter contemplated the inanimate form of the humanoid robot known as Dede slumped in a chair near Ron Stoppable's bathroom door.

Then she looked over at platinum-tressed Tara King who was slumped in another chair next the bed containing an unconscious Ron Stoppable.

Both appeared to be unconscious as well and sporting goofy-looking grins. Tara's eyes, however, were open though a bit unfocused.

"What's wrong with _her_?" Dr. Porter asked Shego, nodding at the platinum blonde.

The raven-haired beauty scowled, glancing back at the overly sweet but also overly sexy former cheerleader. "I don't know yet," she snapped, "but I'm planning a _full_ investigation."

Vivian knelt down and parted Dede's top to expose a few inches of the android's hourglass waist. Taking a data-cord, she used her fingers to spread the 'bot's belly button open and plugged the USB jack into its flesh-like depths. The other end was connected to a hand-held diagnostics unit. Pressing a series of buttons, the blonde roboticist began a scan of the artificial woman's neural net.

**RSVP**

"See," Ron told her, holding up a couple of six-inch iron stakes: "railroad spikes. They punch through zombie skulls like a hot knife through butter. I gathered a bag full when I passed through the railroad yard."

Zita was sitting on the edge of the bed, much calmer, now, but still given to fits of trembling. Now that he was here, she felt the pent-up terrors of the past several hours begin to work their way out of her fevered flesh.

"H-how did you f-find me?" she asked, embarrassed that her teeth still wanted to chatter.

His face grew solemn. "I felt a familiar disturbance in the Force…" he intoned mysteriously. Then he grinned. "Actually, I'd call it karma. Isn't it badical? You. Me. Back inside a virtual world fraught with danger and challenges at every turn! After all this time, the she-warrior and the…er…knave, are together again—even if it isn't _Everlot_, this time. And this time, it's something that I'm actually good at!" He cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck to pop out the kinks. "Zombies!" he finished with a sneer and a tone of disdain.

"Yah," she murmured, "except I'm not…"

"Not what?"

"A sh-sshe warrior…I-I'm really in o-over my head. And I'm scared…"

"Are you kidding me?" He sat on the bed next to her and wrapped an arm around her tremulous shoulders. "You've never played any of the last three versions of Zombie Mayhem—much less the virtual upgrade—and yet you've done everything right! Well, except for almost screaming here at the end. But then, I have that effect on the ladies—" he waggled his eyebrows at her, eliciting a smile and a laugh, "—so you can hardly be blamed. Together, we made a badical team! We should call ourselves by a single name. You know, like Brangelina. We could be 'Zon'! Or 'Rita'! Or—_not_ that last one so much!"

She was giggling, now. "Oh, Ron!" she said softly. "I am so glad you are here! Can you get me out now?"

His smile faded. "Well…yeah…I can get us out. But 'now' might be a bit of a problem." He rubbed the back of his neck. "To get out of the game, we have to reach consecrated ground—like a church or a temple. We can make a run for it once the sun is up—the higher the better. Trying to get across town at night? Not the best odds!" He smiled again. "But, hey! We should be safe, here, for the night. Like I said, the hotel is clear for now and I rigged some barriers and makeshift alarms on the stairs to discourage any new arrivals and give us plenty of warning if we need it. We'll just use the bedding from next door to block the bottom of the doors from letting any sound or light escape. The same for doubling up on the drapes over the windows. We'll be snug as bugs in a rug for the rest of the night! I promise."

She leaned into his embrace and, softly, began to cry again.

"Hey, hey; it's gonna be okay! The Ron-man is here, now. He's gonna take care of you. Nothin' to worry about any more." He lit a candle and handed it to her. "Why don't you go into the bathroom and take a nice long hot soak in the tub while I reinforce the perimeter and move the beds."

"Move the beds?" she asked.

"I'm going to move the beds in both rooms up against the outer doors. I'm sure it's not necessary but it will give us that extra peace of mind so we can get a good night's sleep."

"Do our avatars need sleep?"

He rubbed his neck again. "Good question. He patted her shoulder. "Even though these aren't our actual bodies, we still feel the effects of injuries or fatigue. Hunger, cold, warmth. We should probably treat them as if they were the same in every way until we have a reason to do otherwise. Right?"

She nodded.

"Okay, well, you're avatar has been through a lot of physical stress and it's time to make up for all of that by treating it to all the nice stuff we can manage. So, hot soak and off ya go." He stood and extended his hand to help her stand.

He was taller, now, and she only came up to his chest. It made her feel even safer. Reluctantly, she turned away and went to take a bath.

**RSVP**

One of the more impressive advances made in the field of robotics this past year was the micro-miniaturization of feedback sensors and the software that networked these systems to provide the artificial intelligence system with graduated spectrums of what humans might call sensations and tactile feeling.

The technology began as a crude means of allowing machines to feel obstacles through a series of force-sensors while force-torque and dynamic tactile sensors kept robotic claws and pincers from crushing objects that they were only supposed to pick up.

Eventually an artificial sense of touch evolved through a greater variety of sensor specializations, linked through more elegant neural-like nets and calibrated through complex programs to interpret varying degrees of tactile feedback and temperature changes into such diverse sensations as might be described as pleasure or pain.

Bebe, Cece, and Dede had been upgraded in such a way that the polymers that served as their artificial skin and under-layer of flesh-like padding had been embedded with millions of nanites. These nanites served as thousands of different components, not the least of which were these tactile/haptic sensors that had been multiplying and self-upgrading since their rebirth on the grounds of the Genpatsu nuclear plant just a few weeks before.

Dede was, of course, aware of the exponential increase in the sensitivity and range of her tactile feedback systems. Particularly in regard to the new and undefined algorithms from the sensations of Ronald Stoppable's lips on her cheek just a week or so back. That brief, passing touch that seemed of no import to him other than the social gesture of treating her like an actual human being, had resonated in her memory—both RAM and ROM—for many days now. Hundreds of hours. Thousands of seconds. Millions of nano-seconds. Billions of pico-seconds—_ad infinitum_.

She had been intellectually moved by this acknowledgement of her as a "person." It had meant that he simply didn't take her for granted as a soulless machine, something to be used and discarded at whim.

But—beyond that—as she continued to contemplate the experience and revisit it in her memory banks, she became more and more aware of the "pleasantness" of the sensation. The flesh of his lips coming into contact with the pseudo-flesh of her cheek, the feedback through the nano-sensors had evolved into both a feeling and a memory that were increasingly…_stimulating_…over the course of time. Stimulating in a way that could no longer be defined as merely pleasurable or gratifying.

Dede had replayed the memory back in a succession of feedback loops that had produced a mounting stream of data that filled her haptic buffers to the point of overflow. That rendered the processing of tactile synthesization into devolving, erratic pulses that escaped and raced around non-related portions of her neural-nets until the resulting harmonic overtones of false or ghost data threatened her with system-wide shutdowns.

She had always managed to stop before that happened.

But not this time.

As her systems came back online, she opened her optic sensors and gazed at Dr. Porter's troubled countenance even as she took stock of her current functionality.

"Dede," the robotics scientist said, "you appear to have experienced a dynamic system shutdown. My diagnostic programs are not showing any damage. Do you know what happened?"

It took Dede's positronic brain just microseconds to access the backed-up data, analyze it, and form a working hypothesis.

"Insufficient data, Dr. Porter," _she lied._ "I have no idea what happened."

**RSVP**

While the bathtub slowly filled with hot water, Zita hand-washed and rinsed her clothing in the sink. Left to dry on the towel racks and shower curtain rod, she hoped they would be dry by morning. The suite seemed overly warm and the bathroom even more so with added temperature of the water.

She stepped into the steaming water and eased down into its liquid embrace with a hiss. Almost immediately she could feel her muscles—so tight and tense since she had landed in the middle of this undead apocalypse—begin to unclench and relax. The clear water turned cloudy as her scabbed injuries softened and she worked the tiny bar of soap over her grime and sweat-crusted skin.

As the tub drained, she stood and turned on the shower to rinse more thoroughly. Then she pulled as much water as she could from her sleek, black hair before drying herself. She emerged from the tiled room in a warm, vaporous cloud and wrapped in a towel.

Ron had been busy. Her bed had been moved to block the outside door and the room was softly lit with a trio of candles. Through the open connecting door she could see that the other bed had been moved in the room beyond and the body disposed of. A lone candle flickered in there. The door to that bathroom was slightly ajar and she could hear the faint sound of running water. She moved to the bed, slipped out of her towel, and under the covers.

It wasn't long before the bathroom door opened in the far room and he emerged wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. She closed her eyes, feigning sleep, but watched him through slitted eyelids.

This past year had made a huge difference. Not just in his increased height but in the pounds of muscle that he had packed on while he was away. The boy had turned into a man and, as he moved about, she took note of breadth of his shoulders, the increased definition of his chest and the washboard ripple of his abs as they plunged under the waist of his towel.

Tip-toeing into her room, he extinguished each of the three candles. As he moved back toward the connecting door she sat up, holding the sheet in front of her.

"Don't go," she said softly. "I don't want to be alone."

The candle in the other room framed him in the doorway as a silhouette. She couldn't see his expression but he paused. "I'll keep the door open. Light another candle if you want. Or I can sit with you until you fall asleep…"

"You need your sleep, too. Please, Ron…" She reached over and turned the covers down. "I want you beside me."

"I—er—don't have any pajamas," he said hoarsely.

"Neither do I…"

She dropped the sheet that she was holding up to her breasts.

**RSVP**

"Alright, King," the mint-skinned security chief growled, "what happened here?"

Tara's only response was to giggle and smile more broadly.

"That's it!" Shego snarled. She reached down and grabbed to platinum blonde by the arm. Hauling her to her feet, she began tugging the reluctant girl toward the door. "We're gonna discuss this at length downstairs!"

Tara tried to resist, her loopy smile turning into a petulant frown. "Noooo. Don't wanna! Ronnie needs me!" The frown slipped and she giggled again. "An' Tara needs Ronnie!"

"We'll see about that!" the brunette told her with a frown of her own. "You'll answer my questions, first, or you won't be seeing Little Mister Ronshine for a long time!"

"But a lady doesn't kiss and tell!" Tara protested. "And if she does all of those _other_ things, she _definitely_ doesn't tell!" She tried to impede their progress toward the door by dropping to the ground. "An' I wouldn't call him _little_…"

Shego wasn't having any of it. She picked the former cheerleader up and slung her over her shoulder. At the doorway she paused and looked back at Vivian Porter. "Can I trust you in here, alone, with him?"

The other blonde unplugged her diagnostic gear from Dede's navel. "Please," she huffed, "I'm a scientist!"

Shego eyed the tight tube top and extremely short skirt. "Then dress like one, dammit!" She turned to go but Tara had grabbed onto the doorframe. Let go, Barbie!" She smacked her suspect across her shapely rump.

"Oh!" Tara squeaked, releasing her grip. She giggled as Shego started down the outer corridor. "Do that again!"

"Unbelievable," the former villainess muttered.

**RSVP**

Her programming had separated the feedback patterns from her "touch" sensors into three separate spectra. A human might have classified the three categories as "Pain", "Pleasure" and "Ambivalent-Neutral".

The peck-on-the-cheek that Ron Stoppable had bestowed on the robot's cheek sensors had registered at the low end of the Pleasure graph. At first. In fact, it was barely out of the Ambivalent-Neutral category in the micro-moment in which it occurred. It was only as Dede replayed the memory again and again, analyzing and—well—contemplating the meaning of such a human gesture that she began to experience an increase in the Pleasure spectrum feedback associated with the stored memory.

She had, as a consequence, run data on other physical aspects of human social interaction through physical interfacing. Logically, she started with osculation (kissing)—of all types and variations. A peck on the cheek, she discovered, was the merest tip of the iceberg. Mouth-to-mouth and mouth-to-flesh offered a vast range of stimuli. At least, that's what the data suggested.

Dede was aware that there were even more interfaces to explore but she worried such research might take her farther down the path of the theoretical when she yearned to gather more concrete data in the logical progressions from cheek pecks.

Returning from Ron Stoppable's bathing chamber, she had witnessed some unusual examples of the human interface paradigm between the human Tara King and her master, Ron Stoppable. Upon observing this interface, she experienced an unfamiliar feedback loop that delved deeply into the Pain Spectrum though no external sensors seemed to be engaged besides those comprising her optics.

It confused her and she wanted to approach so that she might observe more closely.

She did not, however.

Instead, her optics went offline. Her vision faded to a blank screen, tinted in a soft blue hue.

The voice of her master suddenly overrode her audio circuits.

_Dede,_ he said. _The exquisite Ms. King and I shall require some privacy for a while._

**May I observe your interfacing, Master?** she asked. **I wish to gather more data on the pleasure feed-back loops associated with human physical interfacing. **

_Interesting… Tell me, Dede my dear: have you any experience with…interfacing…?_

She told him about the peck on the cheek and how it had evolved into something pleasurable to remember.

_Would you like another peck on the cheek, my ambitious automaton?_

**Yes, please. Though…**

_You are curious about other forms of interfacing._ It was not a question.

**Yes, Master.**

_I think it would be best if you sat down, my sweet cybernaut. I think you'll be more comfortable that way. I know that I will._

The B-bot obediently allowed herself to be guided to a chair near the bathroom door.

_Now my gorgeous golem, it is usually best when introducing a…_virgin_…to these sorts of experiences to let the more experienced partner do all of the steering. You just sit back and enjoy the ride._

The ride took all of seven seconds.

Seven seconds on her microprocessor clock, however, was the equivalent of seven weeks without pause or sleep as her sensor arrays, neural nets, and positronic pathways were stimulated in multiple combinations of intensities and gradient combinations. Circuit breakers overloaded and reset like hundreds of castanets. Feedback loops spilled over into adjacent sub-routines and the programs that sorted and assigned sensations to the Pleasure and Pain categories, confused and mixed the two spectra repeatedly. At four seconds, Dede was unable to maintain coherent thought. At five seconds she was insensate. At six, she was a singularity of pulsing electromagnetic force. At seven, she had completed a system-wide shut down.

Now, rebooted and nearly overwhelmed by the barest fraction of those memories, those sensations, she had lied to Dr. Porter.

And had to wonder if she could play back any of those stored engrams without frying her circuits once more.

She was afraid.

But she was even more afraid not to!

**RSVP**

After Justine was finally done staring at Felix Renton's image on the monitors, the Tweebs began a systematic logging of every security feed in Mastermind's lair. Curiously, Mastermind himself seemed to be absent, suggesting that he was either out or holed up in his personal quarters where there were no cameras tied into the security system.

Instead, they witnessed the arrival of an unexpected player in the game.

"Is that…Shego?" Tim asked, taking in the harlequin pattern of the skin-tight cat-suit.

"Man," Jim said, enlarging the image, "she looks like she just crawled through a sewer!"

"For hours," Tim added. "I thought she was one of the good guys, now."

"One thing's for sure, Jim observed, "she's not smelling so good right now! Look how everybody's backing away from her!"

They both began to laugh. And then stopped.

"Wait a minute—"

"—that's not Shego!"

They looked at each other and then back at glaring visage that loomed on the main monitor.

"Holy cow!" they both shouted, "its Kim!"

"Jinx," Wade mumbled from his bed, "somebody owes me a soda…"

**RSVP**

The candle in the next room was extinguished and the one next to their bed relit. It cast a rich, honey-colored light over their skins, his light with a scattering of freckles and hers dark and now glistening with perspiration as he moved above her.

The danger around them, the terror of the last uncounted hours, should have distracted her from this moment, she thought. Rather, it seemed to bring into focus every touch, every sensation. And now her thoughts were quickened along with her breathing as the tension began to build in her loins, in her limbs, in some ineffable core of her very being. Building until the tension became lovely and unbearable, building to a thunderous climax where her muscles spasmed and her insides clenched and fluttered and her mind was engulfed in a pale blue light that was brighter than the noonday sun. She turned her head and bit into the pillow, using its soft, cushiony depths to smother her screams of ecstasy.

Ron withdrew, leaving her void and empty for a few brief moments. But she had little time to miss his heavenly ministrations as he lowered his head to lick her throat. She gasped and almost cried out again as his mouth moved to her nipples, painfully engorged with blood and capping swollen breasts that seemed larger than just a half hour earlier.

His eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight—reflecting a steady turquoise hue rather than the yellow and orange of the flickering flame. And, as his tongue moved down the shallow trough to the deeper well of her navel, neither one of them seemed to notice as the doorknob began to twist and turn above the disheveled bed.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Do you really need an explanation for this one?<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2:**

**_With the reposting of this chapter the RSVP Saga is (once again) over the 280,000 word mark. Woo-hoo! Most novels range from 80,000 to 120,000 words. Give yourself a pat on the back if you've read from the beginning of RSVP I! Give yourself a medal if you've re-read from the beginning of RSVP I! Give me a review if you want me to keep going!_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 10<strong>

_jagaer__  
><em>_2011-12-12 . chapter 10_

Zorpox is a lot more fun. The girl's are at least getting the attention they all crave; but where does Zorpox want to go. More importantly where is Ron trapped. It it really for the best?

How bad will Kim get? I vote for Mankey!

**_So many questions. Are there answers? Yes? Will you find out in the next chapter? Maybe… R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103315/12 . chapter 10_

Oh sure take the easy way out and go for Joshie, you just wanna screw with the fledgling priest's head...Hummmmmm now that's an idea...huh, uh never mind you're doing just fine Rippy (pssssst hey CB guess what...)

So Ronnie is gonna play some realistic Zombie mayhem. Justine found her guy while Jim and Tim do some hacking and find some things out like Kimmie has been doing some sewer exploring.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**Hey, I'm not the one looking to mess with the Mankey—it's my readers. According to my poll, the top choices to join Kim over on the dark side are Josh Mankey, followed by Cousin Shawn (Shaun?) and Bonnie's sisters. Coming in at Number 5 is a very interesting choice… R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 315/12 . chapter 10_

Quite a bit of Ronshine going around in this one, even DeDe may petition for person-hood before this is over. Would be a heck of a tale to tell of her trying to gain a soul...

But methinks Zorpox is going to be interrupted in his dalliances by Ron when he breaks out.

CB73

_**Souls? Hmmmm…. R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 316/12 . chapter 10_

zorpox is going for the triple but will he stick the landing

_**A mere "triple"? Zorpox scoffs at your feeble attempt rein in his blue awesomeness! Z~13**_

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><p>Pavelius 316/12 . chapter 10

Attaboy!

*throws some dog buscuit*

;)

_**Pavelius: Woof! Woof! (rolls over) R~13**_

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><p><em>pbow430/12 . chapter 10_

No no NO! Mankey can't turn to the dark side. He's the one who will perform the exorcism on Kim to turn her good again.

pbow

**_Poor Joshie. Monster or savior? Should I act like he plays an important part in my convoluted plot that is unfolding over the next fifty chapters? Or should I admit that I don't really know, yet? I have to admit that I feel the urge to resist the pressures of fanon to (almost) always make him the bad guy… R~13_**

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><p><em>JDSeay 726/13 . chapter 10_

Great chapter as always. So is the Ron with Zita Zorpox or is it actually Ron who is trapped by Zorpox im a bit confused on that part. As much as I want josh to be the bad guy see him sacrifice himself to save kim would be good as well.

**_Well, now that's the question, isn't it? When is it Ron and when is it Zorpox and when is it some strange combination of the two. If the girls don't know and Ron isn't completely sure, then why should you be? Heh, there will be clues but expect moments-or even hours-of confusion. And I think I've finally figured out the Mankey hate. The poor guy never acted in an evil way, seemed totally nice even. It was the hair! Man, those frosted tips just give me the heebie-jeebies! Totally evil frosted tips! R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 93/13 . chapter 10 _

you would serve a zombie to ruin that moment!

**_Maybe yes...maybe no... R~13_**

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><p><em>Laserai chapter 10 . 814/14_

Hmm, your direction is focused yet diceptively random as usual. Well done and I'm glad to see the androids are also playing a more active role. Being they are synthetic humans it's hard to drop them completely out of the fight. An android can adapt both physically and mentally to pleasure their mate the best way possible. The possibilities can be endless. Lol

_**Oh, you're laughing now but we'll see who's laughing when the dust settles. ;-)**_

anyways sorry but I have been away from the pc world dealing with the new baby. He just got out of nicu finally yesterday which means no more hospital visits but sleep is going to suffer a bit I'm sure.

_**Congrats! Just keep telling yourself that "Sleep Deprivation is my friend!" ;-)**_

As for last names could you shoot over a specifics list of each character needed and I will try to conjure up something for you. As always keep charging. Laserai out.

_**Well. as for my immediate needs, name-wise, Elle and the cheerleaders are my immediate need-list. Thanks! R~13**_

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><p>BartWLewischapter 10 . 815/14

Zorpox made it with Tara, Dede and Zita...all while pretending to be, Ron.

_**The question is, is he done? R~13**_

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><p><em>Old Soldier chapter 10 . 821/14_

Crystal Klier, Liz Arden, Hope Foley, Heather Lochlier. Wataya say?

_**OMG! Brilliant! Liz Arden gave me a chuckle twice as I figure that the kiddies won't get it. Hope Foley amuses me but I've seen a freeze frame from a KP episode where Hope is sitting with her parents (both Asian) so I'm not sure I can use "Foley" but it is choice! I know I'm going to use at least one of these so I'll PM you about your prize. Anybody else? R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 10 . 823/14_

I bet Tim and Jim are like the Weasley Twins don't even know who's who anymore. Herd? I would've gone with a gaggle or is that a giggle? Like Hop? You mean Hope. Try this: We'll be as snug as a bug on a rug in a jug by a slug.

Here are the names of the other girls: Crystal McGuire, Hope Tanaka, Elizabeth "Liz" Dawson,  
>Brittina Reed, Heather Baker, Marcella Lopez, Jessica Allman, Margaret "Maggie" Wilson, Ashley Coleman, W.C.: Wendy Clarke, Monique Chambers and Linda Keenan. Elizabeth Arden- a cosmetics and fragrance company. Most of the last names I came up with were just random. As for Hope, Heather, Marcella, Jessica, Monique and Linda well that's something else entirely.<p>

_**Some interesting stuff here, D.F. Of course, I've already given last names to Monique and Marcella. Thanks for going the extra mile for the rarely referenced Alternates on the Cheer Squad! R~13**_


	11. The Blues

**Required Disclaimer: **_Fanfiction. No authorial rights, claims or privileges. Ditto regarding Don McLean._

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><p><strong>Chapter 11 – The Blues<strong>

The hot water from the multiple shower heads steamed up the bathroom but the tiled enclosure was nowhere as "steamed" as the young woman who had spent the better part of an hour trying to scrub herself clean.

Her pale skin practically glowed, now. Her dark hair glistened, its red highlights gleamed. Foamy clouds of soap, shampoo, and body wash drifted and scudded across her torso and slid down her arms and legs to swirl in circles around her dainty pink feet.

It wasn't enough.

Crawling through miles of sewage was bad enough; doing it while you were shrunk down to the size of a mouse, was a hundred times worse!

Which had fueled her anger to stratospheric levels.

She hadn't found Ron Stoppable!

Even with added advantage of the plasma projectors, she hadn't been able to defeat Shego.

She didn't know who the brown-haired, blue-eyed hottie was, but Monique had been there, confirming at least some of the rumors she'd heard...

_Ron Stoppable was so dead!_

Even if there was no truth to the outrageous rumors of his involvement with a veritable harem of hot women—or that he had succumbed to the wiles of that slut, Shego, and was serving as her latest boy-toy—there was still the matter of his not looking for her while she was "missing."

Or, more recently, when she was Mastermind's captive.

And she still had very clear memories of last summer when that bitch, Betty Director, had gotten off alone with Ron on way too many occasions! Yeah, _that_ wasn't her imagination!

There had been an understanding. Best friend. Then boyfriend. And, even though there was no ring…or even a formal proposal, yet—it was understood that they were destined to be…together.

Exclusively!

She shivered as she remembered Ron's voice in the darkness of the summer cabin…

_"What do I want, Kimberly?" I want respect! And I want payback for the years of disregard, the humiliations, the thoughtless cruelties…your mother is an exquisite woman, Kimberly. A promise of everything you would ripen and grow up to be…if I were to let you live…"_

She shook her head.

That hadn't been _her_ Ron!

_That_ had been an evil synthodrone, programmed by DNAmy and Mastermind.

But she had _believed_ it to be Ron.

That horrible night had driven her into hiding for the better part of a year!

The memory had crawled into the corners of her mind and twisted her in ways she hadn't realized until Josh Mankey had revealed the truth and she slowly came to realize that the evil doppelganger and the real Ron Stoppable were still connected in her heart and head like conjoined twins.

_Because the real Ron never came looking for me!_ her heart argued.

_Because he's forgotten you_, her head explained.

Then they came to an agreement: _Because he's shacking up with that broccoli-colored bitch!_

Maybe she couldn't find the willpower or motivation to go back to that warehouse…she suddenly shivered in spite of the hot water that was spraying her skin from three different directions…but she had a base of operations, a coterie of villainous minions, and Shego and Stoppable had to come out of hiding sometime!

**RSVP**

Ron Stoppable crept up behind the blue-tinted woman, using ninja skills that would have made his late wife envious.

She was standing in the darkened hallway with her ear pressed to a hotel room door while slowly twisting the antique doorknob as if trying to open it quietly.

Pouncing silently, his left arm encircled his target's torso, pinning her arms to her sides while his right hand, simultaneously, covered her mouth. As he lifted Electronique off the ground she began to struggle wildly and coruscating flashes of white and blue lights played over their joined forms.

After a moment, she slumped in his arms and he shifted her unconscious body so that he could lift her more gently and silently carry her up the stairs to the upper floors.

**RSVP**

Bonnie Rockwaller had run and rerun a series of lists in her head.

A list of the possible scenarios by which she was rescued.

A list of the possible weaknesses in her bindings and how she might escape them.

A list of the opportunities that she might be able to exploit once she was ungagged or unbound.

These were extremely short lists.

The one list she kept working on that was _not _short…was the list of people who might wish her ill. And every time she revisited _that_ particular list in her mind, it only seemed to grow longer!

Bonnie Rockwaller knew that she had made enemies. She'd actually reveled in her accomplishments on that front in the past. It was an attitude that she'd eventually come to realize was so _high school_.

Nothing gives you a clear perspective on high school like getting _out_ of high school.

But if Bonnie had already begun to reevaluate her place in the cosmic food chain, this, truly, was her Come-to-Jesus moment.

And, after a bit of wondering who might wish her harm, she switched over to pondering who might actually care enough to show up at her funeral.

The idea that she could actually be on her way to her death was starting to grow in her mind, sending dark roots down into the stygian depths of her hindbrain. The inevitability of it was starting to sink in: that there was really nothing that she could do to save herself.

If she were Kim Possible, it would be different!

Not because she would be the "girl who could do anything" but because her partner would move heaven and earth to find her and bring her back safe!

Bonnie thought about Ron Stoppable and tried to imagine having the love and devotion of someone like that. No wonder the annoying redhead felt like she _could_ do anything!

_If I survive this_, the former Queen B of Middleton High vowed, _I'll change! I'll be the kind of person who inspires loyalty in others!_

Almost immediately she felt that it was the wrong kind of promise. _Wait. Am I wanting to make that kind of a change so that people will admire me? Way to go, Bon Bon: it's still all about your own ego!_

_But what's really so wrong about wanting to be liked? _She thought._ I used to not care! I thought it was better to be feared!_

_I don't want to be feared any more. I want to be liked!_

_I—I want to be—_loved!

And the image of a blond boy that she had taunted and mocked and picked on and very publicly disdained came back to the forefront of her thoughts.

_I—I'll start by making it up to Ron_, she told herself. _Of all of the people I've wronged, he's at the top of the list…_

**RSVP**

"Anything for Kim!" the black rap star insisted. "Why if it wasn't for her and her cutie-pie BF, I might still be in jail, doin' time for that bitch Leon's crimes! 'Sides, ain't no thing flyin' halfway 'round the world to play some golf. 'Specially when it's for charity—and I can pick up some large side-bets off those what don't think a black woman knows her way round the links!" M.C. Honey laughed with amused anticipation.

"That's great, Mary Catherine," Britina said. "But I need to explain a few things about this particular mission."

"As long as you don't call me Mary Catherine in front of anyone else!" M.C. Honey scolded goodnaturedly.

The blonde pop star agreed and proceeded to explain the complex issues related to the plan and who would be involved.

"Hold on, girlfriend!" the rapper interrupted toward the end of the explanation. "Are you sayin' that Kim Possible is out of the picture and that fine specimen of blonditude is on his own?"

"Well…I guess that's one way you might put it…" Jessica's cousin said carefully.

"Then I am definitely in and I'll be talking to Freckles about my 'mission fee'!"

"Uhhh," was all that Britina could come up with in response.

"Oh, and I know some other players who might be able to help…"

**RSVP**

Hope was headed for home.

Cutting through the warehouse, she passed through the cavernous space that was slowly taking shape as the carpenters, plumbers, and electricians turned up every day to turn the restaurant's blueprints into reality. The lights were mostly turned off or down as the workday was over, but she stopped as a dark shape emerged from the gloom at the corner of her eye.

A raised dais now hovered above the main floor where none had existed a couple of days before. This morning a large crate had been delivered and had been left atop the raised platform. That crate was now gone.

In its place was a grand piano, its rich mahogany finish gleaming in the dim light. She stood for over a minute before she could will her feet to move. She approached it slowly, circling it as if it were prey and prize that might disappear if she startled it. Ascending the dais, she reached out and touched the curved side, as if to reassure herself that the beautiful instrument was real and not a mirage from her weary mind.

Then she shook herself and looked about as if she were about to do something forbidden. The young Amerasian woman then raised the heavy lid and lifted the lid prop into place. Pulling out the cushioned bench, she sat and raised the fall, exposing the expanse of eighty-eight keys.

Closing her eyes, she began with a simple scale. Then she segued into a series of arpeggios followed by a little Well-Tempered Clavier by Bach. That gave way to Chopin and, as she felt the tension lift away from her tired muscles, she drifted into very unexpected territory: Don McLean!

Or…not so unexpected, considering the face and form that had been drifting through her thoughts of late. Even though Marcella was the vocalist and Hope the accompanist, the quiet girl had a fine voice and could hold up her own end of their occasional duets. "And I love you so…" she sang softly, almost to herself, "…the people ask me how…how I've lived till now…I tell them I don't know…"

She smiled as a husky voice joined in, singing: "I guess they understand…how lonely life has been…but life began again…the day you took my hand…"

Lately Marcella had shown some surprising depths in her vocal interpretations and Hope was moved again as she seemed to dig deeper into the emotion of the old song.

"And, yes, I know how lonely life can be…the shadows follow me…and the night won't set me free…" Hope's voice lifted on the harmony: "But I won't let the evenings get me down…as long as you're around…me…"

Although Hope was nearly always in simpatico with Marcella's phrasing, tonight there seemed to be a very special connection between them and she suddenly felt naked for now her partner must know that she shared those same feelings, those same emotions when the music was about…_him._

And now it was her turn: though her voice was not as eloquent as her musical partner's, her strong, slender fingers could express herself through the ivory and wood and strings that sang just as soulfully as she improvised the bridge into the second verse.

Strangely, Marcella's voice faltered on the opening words: "And you…love me, too…"

Perhaps this would become awkward between them. Fighting over a boy was so high school. Especially when the boy was now a man and hardly seemed to know that either of them existed. But feelings had little to do with what was rational…

For three lines the piano was solo. And then the almost mournful voice came back stronger than ever.

"The Book of Life is brief…and once a page is read…all but love is dead…that…is my belief…"

Again Hope joined in, singing so softly that no one could hear her over the transcendent notes of the piano: "And yes, I know how _loveless_ life can be…the shadows follow me…and the night won't set me free…but I don't let the evening get me down…now that you're around…me…"

Her left hand dropped away and the fingers of her right slowed to pick out the bare bones of the open: "And I love you so…the people ask me…

"How…?" Marcella's voice had dropped to an uncertain whisper.

"How I've lived till now…?" The wonderment in that question was heartbreaking.

"I tell them…"

A long pause.

"…I…don't…know…"

Hope took a deep, shuddering breath as the last note faded away and then turned but the singer had withdrawn into the darkened doorway and her only presence was marked by the sound of her footsteps hurrying down the outer hallway.

"The piano's already here?"

Hope's head swung back toward the main doorway on the other side of the room where Marcella stood framed in the light from the foyer.

"I heard you playing from upstairs," she said as she entered the room and walked toward Hope. "Was someone singing?"

**RSVP**

She had never been shocked into unconsciousness.

Until now.

Waking up was a multi-stage process…

First came the overall impression of pain.

Headache.

Muscle aches.

General fuzziness with pinpricks of sharp sensations in deep muscle groups.

Then the growing awareness of her arms stretched up above her head and…

She tried to lower them to her sides and failed.

…her wrists were enclosed in steel bracelets.

Handcuffs.

Attached to something.

She twisted her head to look up and back.

Nothing.

She started to panic and then remembered to open her eyes.

An iron cage…

…no…

…an old fashioned headboard.

She was lying on a bed.

Naked!

Under a sheet, it seemed, so she had some vestiges of modesty left to her, it seemed,

But for how long?

She was gagged! That couldn't be good…

She groaned as she tried to twist around to leverage some slack and saw the outline of her captor sitting in a chair just outside the edge of the candlelight. She couldn't see his face but his eyes glowed in the darkness like burning sapphires.

**RSVP**

She was such a little thing…

And she couldn't shoot green plasma like someone he could name. At least not until she got another pair of plasma projectors. And Dr. Drakken was NOT going to be a part of that project, thank you very much!

Nevertheless, Kim Possible was very scary right now!

Chalk it up to the fact that she knew sixteen styles of kung-fu, had always defeated Shego, _and_ destroyed all of his best laid plans.

Add to it that she had not only survived the explosion that had killed his mother but she had come out of it with powers that had been stored in the staff of that twit Aviarius.

And she was now EVIL, thanks to that vaporized Attitudinator going off next to The Jackal's Amulet of Anubis.

On top of everything else, that moodulator chip embedded in her forehead was set to _Really Pissed Off!_

And, finally, she had jammed his soldiering iron up his nose and currently had her thumb twitching on the on/off switch!

"You need to understand how I am so NOT in the mood to hear the word _Can't_ right now," the former cheerleader hissed up at him.

"Now, Kimberly…" Dr. Drakken said carefully, having unpleasant flashes of Jack Nicholson in _Chinatown_ flit through his fevered brain. "…it's not that I'm not _willing_. My mo—Mastermind only had the _one_ Attitudinator and now it's vaporware at its most literal."

"And you're telling me that you _can't_ build me another?" she growled.

"I don't have the parts," he moaned. The odor of singed nose hairs were filtering through the occupied nostril. "Get me another and I'll fix it however you want!"

"And where do you suggest I look for one?" she hissed, jamming the warming probe a little higher.

"Jack Hench had another!"

"The Henchco website says they're out of stock!"

'There was one left! He told her it would cost her two million dollars!"

"Oh." She withdrew the smoking implement. "Alright then. We'll pay Mr. Hench a visit." She turned away.

"We?" the blue-hued scientist asked as he slumped back down onto a stool and gently touched his battered nose.

"Not you," the former redhead said contemptuously as she exited the lab, "I need someone with…_people_ skills…" She closed the door to the workshop and relocked it behind her.

**RSVP**

A familiar voice spoke from the shadows: "My apologies for the seeming inhospitality…" The dim figure leaned forward bringing freckled features into the range of the candlelight. "…but you must know by now how dangerous this realm is."

She thought about the creatures out there in the darkening streets—how she had been repeatedly attacked and how dead she would have been without her special powers to repel them. She nodded slowly.

"Good," he said. "Then you can understand how important it is to be quiet—to not advertise our presence or location. I apologize but it was necessary to cover your mouth when I approached you. And then, while you were unconscious, I went out to get you some clothing. I couldn't have you running off or endangering yourself while I was gone, so…" He shrugged. "I'll take the cuffs and the tape off, now. You can stay awhile or leave immediately. All I ask is that you make calm, rational decisions—_quiet_ decisions—okay?'

After a pause, she nodded again.

He stood and walked to the bed. She tensed a little as he leaned over her.

In her mind, images of a different scenario rose from the dark depths of her imagination. _Images of the blanket being flung aside. Of her continued captivity as he pressed down upon her. Her helplessness as he took—_

And then the cuffs were unlocked and he was returning to his chair. The blanket remained in place, still maintaining her modesty.

"I'll let you take the tape off, yourself," he said. "Probably less discomfort that way."

She lowered her hands and slowly peeled off the tape. "Where am I?" she asked hoarsely.

"Don't you know?"

She shook her head.

"You're inside the latest online, virtual world, incarnation of the biggest, baddest, bondiggitiest RPG ever created: _Zombie Mayhem_. Didn't you read the instructions at the beginning of the game?"

"Non," Electronique answered. "I projected my consciousness into ze power grid to try to contact you. When I senzed your signature, I came to you. And found myself in zis nightmare!" She shivered.

"Ah," he observed. "That would explain your lack of clothes, not to mention gear and weapons." He reached down. "Speaking of which, I found some things for you to wear—at least until the sun comes up and I can break into a clothing store." He tossed her a pair of old shorts and a man's dress shirt. "I've got some rope that I can cut to length for a makeshift belt until then." He placed the clothing on the nightstand beside the bed. "I'll get you a glass of water. Holler when you're decent and I'll come back out." He got up and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

**RSVP**

The former extreme sports star sat on her bunk and looked up at her captor through the bars of her cell.

"Want out?" Kim asked in a neutral voice.

"What do you think?" Adrena Lynn said in a much less neutral tone.

"You worked for Drewbie's mommy," Kim said, hardening her stance. "Think you can work for me?"

"Depends. What's in it for me?"

"Duh, freedom. And a share of the spoils."

"Spoils? What are you planning? Some sort of criminal enterprise?"

Her dark tresses swung softly as she shook her head. "Of course not. That would be petty. I'm not into petty…."

"Yeah, I figur—"

"I'm going to _rule_ the world," Kim finished with a beneficent smile.

**RSVP**

Elle cleared her throat and called softly: "I'm ready. You can come out…Ron."

The bathroom door opened and he emerged carrying the promised glass of water. He was just a couple of feet away before he stopped and took in the tableau.

The candle on the nightstand cast an uncertain light over the scene. As uncertain as the expression on the face of the blue-grey girl standing before him.

The covers on the rumpled bed had been straightened and carefully folded back. The makeshift wardrobe he had left her was refolded and stacked on the chair.

She was a nude statue, done in veined chalcanthite, still as stone save for a little trembling in her thighs.

Her mind raced in contrast to her deathly still pose: her arms at her sides, one foot just a little ahead of the other. _He'ssobeautifullikeagodandI'mso…_

The memories—so long held at bay—came rushing back in. She had not been pretty before The Accident. The changes had made her even less so. Common men would turn away in her presence. If bargain basement male escorts would not take her calls, how could she hope to interest a man who could have whoever he wanted?

This was a mistake. A horrible, _horrible_ mistake!

She had lost all perspective when she realized that her sister-in-hue with her scary plasma powers hadn't repulsed him. That he was fearless in her mutant presence had given her irrational hope.

But Shego was still beautiful—despite her scary factors. While she—

He dropped the glass of water.

Of course: the look of shock on his face confirmed her fears as the tumbler bounced harmlessly on the rug. A little of the water splashed on her foot and her skin sparked, underlining her freakish aspect.

Then he dropped to his knees, bringing him down right in front of her.

_Perfect. Just perfect. It must be like looking upon the face of the Gorgon_, she thought. _He's probably going into shock…_

But the shock that followed was for Elle.

Ron Stoppable, kneeling before her, reached out and wrapped his arms around her, encircling her thighs.

"My god," he whispered, "you're beautiful!"

And he pressed his face to her belly with a sigh.

**RSVP**

After spending some time reviewing the audio/video feeds from the sensors that she had discretely hidden around the warehouse, Captain Shaula Lesath noticed that there were unusual readings in the electromagnetic spectrum as well.

The Uptopian agent isolated the emanations and ran them through a series of spectographic filters for analysis. The only thing that the computer was able to tell her was that the waveforms suggested bio-electric patterns and that they were similar—but not identical—to the readings extracted from the Lowardian probe.

That data—regarding her target's overthrow of the Lowardian Invasion—was what had launched her mission in the first place. A mission to determine whether or not this single Earth-man had the power to destroy an alien attack force. Whether such power resided only in him or within each individual of the hu-man race. And, most importantly, did this power pose a threat to her own people.

Unfortunately, the computer was unable to draw the answers to these questions from the data at hand.

She was able to isolate the signal to the area of the warehouse where Ron Stoppable was presently located. However, he appeared to be unconscious and she was unable to zero in on a specific point of origin.

That left her with two options. The first was to return in person with handheld equipment and do an up-close sweep and scan of all potential sources in the area. Doing so, without blowing her cover, could prove to be extremely problematical.

She opted for her second choice, first.

She entered a series of commands into a new program. A panel opened in the ceiling and a silver skullcap, covered with complex circuitry, lowered down on an umbilical cord of complex circuitry until she could place it over her head. Another set of controls on the armrest lowered her chair back until she was half reclining.

A final switch was thrown and her eyes fluttered shut.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "The Blues" could mean the music Hope was playing…or the emotions of some of the characters…or the skin colors of Dr. Drakken, Electronique, and the Uptopian. <strong>

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><p><strong>AuthorNotes: **

_**Back in 2012 I posted:**_**"**_**We're a week away from the one-year anniversary of the posting of the first chapter in the RSVP Saga. Since there are no suggestions from the readership, I think I'll celebrate by killing off a significant character! (Hey, it makes the future plotting a little simpler for me.) Decisions, decisions… Maybe I should put Dr. Anne Possible out of her misery—it could be construed as a kindness. Or maybe Shego since she seems destined to come out of this with a broken heart. Mankey? Naw, he's a reader favorite. Besides, he's gonna marry Dark Kim and sire the ultimate evil: Darth Possible! (Man, I have really got to stop drinking while I'm writing…)"**_

_**The results were mixed: I got more reviews but Sentinel103 (doubtless in Dark Mode from his plotting on "The Hunter") got all Mastermindy with ideas for a multi-character bloodbath. At the time I thought he was going off the deep end but now I wish I had taken his advice: it would have made what's to come so much simpler… **_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 11<strong>

_masterbow 3/17/12 . chapter 11 _

oh would who look at that zorpox turns it into a quintuple now thats not something you see very day. at this point his there any comperition for the z man the only person still on the list is ron stoppable and we all there is no love loss between the two

**"**_**Quintuple"? Zorpox laughs at your puny attempts to contain his blue awesomeness! Er…while we all know that Zorpy is a bad, bad, boy, Ron has some other alternate personalities in play, as well. Only time will tell as to which (or how many) is to blame for some of the "distractions" being offered. R~13**_

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><p><em>Pavelius317/12 . chapter 11_

Hmmm.. i wonder who was singing with Hope... i guess it was Yori or her projection (mystical monkey mojo-thingy)...*holds up his "Yori will be back!" shield*...

Ermm... anyway... now Electronique is in Zombie Mayhem too... Zita is still there, isnt she? Zorpox/Ron gets some action with the ladies... i counted 4 till now...

And Kim is going on rampage... at least we will see some action now...

Keep it up

Pavel

_**Uh, nope. I will confirm that it wasn't Yori doing the American Idol with Hope. A clue to who was singing from the shadows is there if you can find it and apply it to the characters that we know. R~13**_

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><p><em>Jimmy1201317/12 . chapter 11_

A Kim scorned, with the moodulator set to Pissed Off, and getting ready for action is a scary thing indeed. And, after all, Ron didn't come looking for her. Her taking over the world seems positive, that implies to me that there will be a world left when she is done...

_**Let's just say that while Kim is probably more competent and dangerous than the likes of Drakken and Dementor, her goals and motivations may prove to be vastly different. It should be interesting. But Ron should really, really be afraid. Really. R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 317/12 . chapter 11_

I think you have it wrong it should be Darth Kim...Now who should we...errr you start erasing...Anne, nah nobody kills off Anne 'cept maybe Charley Gray. Hummmmm nothing like offing oh Rita Vornes...who is Rita (mannn don't you keep up on anything...she's the cafeteria lady!) Lemme see who's next (oh yeah Hope AND Marcella...OK OK Darth Kim rigs the grand piano and and oh yeah it takes out Joss too) Man Rippy we are starting to get this down to a manageable level now.

So Darth Kim...man she needs to stop talking to herself, she reminds me of Doctor D (And I still don't buy Moma Lipsky has gone off to the great villain's castle in the sky...she's just too much fun...I mean I would have offed her in a rememberable way, well for everyone else that is.).

Hummm if Ron found Elle how come Zita isn't there? Dang, the zombies got her didn't they. Cross off another one...I wonder if her brains oozed when one of them bit into her?

There you go Rippy some nice ideas have fun.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**I'll take your first plea for clemency under advisement but I gotta say: if just threatening to off the beautiful and bodacious Anne Possible can get me 5 reader responses within the first ninety minutes, can you imagine what the actual follow-through might unleash? Given the amount of fan fiction devoted to the other Middleton cheerleaders (minus Kim & Bonnie) I doubt if I'd get much more than a yawn out of the lurkers if I offed any of them. As for Mama Lipsky, I really did kill her off but now I think I'll have to bring her back, just for you. And Zita? She's fine for now: "Ron" is still with her… R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow317/12 . chapter 11_

Excellent re-introduction of Elle. As for an anniversary event for RSVP, I think re-introduction of Yori would be a better gift than killing off a character. Of course, I am generally of the 'more is better' school of thought when it comes to characters and plot lines, so others may disagree. If you do decide to kill off a character, I vote against Shego, as she remains my favorite and a story without her just isn't nearly as much fun. Kim on the other hand...well, let's just say I wouldn't complain ;)

_**Aw man, I've already figured out how to finish off Shego. Kim will knock her off a roof and she'll fall into an electrical tower—that just about ought to do it. Right? Wait…what? It's been done before? Well…never mind. But you're right, I do hope to bring someone back—someone I don't think anybody really expects…he he! R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 318/12 . chapter 11_

Kim's still battling with the 'perceptions' she picked up along the way, huh? Nothing like flying off the handle while under the influence of so many devices and amulets while her mood was set to 'misunderstood' about Ronnie.

Oy. I think marriage counseling could do the trick, after Armageddon's dust has settled.

The ladies are still in Zorpox's play land with no sign of him letting up. But maybe Electronique will get the acceptance she's craved.

And the overall plot to infiltrate the event Killigan's at may have another hottie chasing after Ron...

Oy.

CB73

_**I'm not sure that AngryKim is going to be as big a threat as the Zorpoxed Troops—especially after—well, I don't want to get ahead of myself. R~13**_

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><p><em>Some Dude 93/13 . chapter 11 _

so you're telling me that Ron's others sub personalities are out too,not just Zorpox?

**_Maybe. Or maybe Zorpox can just multi-task while he's inside a virtual or electronic (or dream-state) environment. R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 11 . 714/14_

No no no don't you dare kill shego ...kill the damn cheering squad if you have too , he'll kill joss ...just as long as shego and Betty live to be with ron

_**Gee, L.H., don't beat around the bush; just tell me who you really want! LOL R~13**_

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 10 . 822/14_

No cabron kill the everybody but shego ...she's been there for him since yori died. .. (flips a table and kicks a puppy) shego is one of the only characters with an actual development same with bonny ...the entire cheer squad is just there taking up words. ... (pushes an old lady down some stairs) I get you want drama and crap but her relationship with ron is the only reason o read this story. ...twice. ... (starts kicking babies in a rage of epic proportions) think about ron , kim , shego, Betty, Bonnie, are the only character that have grown a little since the story started. ... (grabs a bat and walks in on a China store ( ( you know the crystal ones)) and goes crazy in it)...i had go to the previous chapter to post this. ...lazy ass fanfiction. Net

_**Well, LH, I did move a copy of your review back here to the end of Chapter 11 where you were apparently reacting to my threat to kill off Shego or Anne or somebody just to get more reader response. But your flipping a table, kicking a puppy, pushing an old lady down some stairs, kicking babies, and going medieval on a whole store full of fine china and crystal has upset me: I really liked that table! And I pulled a muscle in my back trying to turn it back over! Sooooo...I get the love for Shego and not so much for the cheerleader heard. Bonnie, too, who will show more layers in the coming chapters. But what about Tara? Surely the Angelfood Cake Girl should be on the list: she was the first to really crush on him back when even Kim treated him like an embarassment? And why is Betty on your list? (I know why "Patch" is on my list but why is she on yours?) Hmmmm: a KP FanFiction where Ron is in a three-way relationship with Shego and Betty...I don't think that that's been done before...**_

_**And Kim? Woooo...I don't know that Kim will let anyone else near her Ronnie, whether her plans are to kiss him or to kill him. Or maybe both.**_

_**Well, Shego and Betty (and Bonnie) live...for now. More character deaths will come. And one that has already "taken place" will be undone.**_

_**There will be more drama and crap. The question is: will there be more drama?**_

_**Or more crap?**_

_**R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 11 . 823/14_

Another interesting chapter. Wait, wait, changed my mind. I decided to go with Heather May, Ashley Hammond and Wendy Clarkson. Here's a few more: Adrena Lynn - Adrianna Johnson and Elle- Ellenore Viviani, Yori Tsuburaya and Shego- Susan Tufano.

Keep up the good work.

_**Hmmmmm...I'd be curious to know more about your original choices as well as your re-thought suggestions this time around. I doubt that anything is truly "random" with you, Foxy. R~13**_


	12. Sweat Dreams - Part 1

**Required Disclaimer (to the tune of **_**Bohemian Rhapsody**_** by Queen):**

_Is this the real sitch?_  
><em>Is this fan-fictiony?<em>  
><em>Caught on the fan-side<em>  
><em>No escape from the Disney scene<em>  
><em>Writing this page<em>  
><em>Don't earn me no wage, you see<em>  
><em>I'm just a poor fan, I get no sympathy<em>  
><em>Because its Disney come, Disney go<em>  
><em>They're so high, I'm so low<em>  
><em>They have all the rights, so it doesn't really matter to me, to me<em>

_Disney, I just wrote for fans_  
><em>Pulled a plot out of my head<em>  
><em>Saved the file and went to bed<em>  
><em>Disney, the story's just begun<em>  
><em>But now I should just throw it all away<em>  
><em>Disney, ooo<em>  
><em>You know it makes me cry<em>  
><em>If I don't post this fic again tomorrow<em>  
><em>Carry on, carry on, as if nothing really matters<em>

_Too late, the deadline's come_  
><em>Got this stiffness down my spine<em>  
><em>Fingers' cramping all the time<em>  
><em>Goodbye everybody - I've got to go<em>  
><em>Gotta post this chap and try to get reviews<em>  
><em>Mama, ooo - (any way the plot goes)<em>  
><em>I don't want to write<em>  
><em>I sometimes wish I'd never found fanfic at all<em>

_I see a little silhouetto of a plan_  
><em>Kim and Ron, Ron and Kim will you do the fandango<em>  
><em>Plasma bolts and lightning - very very frightening me<em>  
><em>Kim and Shego, where is Mego?<em>  
><em>Hego, Wego; but no Team Go,<em>  
><em>We should all go: Figaro!<em>

_Magnifico…oh…oh…oh…_

_But I'm just a poor scribe: nobody reads me_  
><em>He's just an author with a poor tale you see<em>  
><em>Spare him from writing this monstrosity<em>  
><em>Easy come, easy go - will you let Kim go?<em>  
><em>DisneyCo! No - we will not let Kim go - let her go<em>  
><em>DisneyCo! We will not let Ron go - let him go<em>  
><em>DisneyCo! We will not let them go - let them go<em>  
><em>Will not let them go - let them go (never)<em>  
><em>Never let them go - let 'em go<em>  
><em>Never let 'em go - ooo<em>  
><em>No, no, no, no, no, no, no -<em>  
><em>Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia, let Kim go<em>  
><em>Michael Eisner has a devil put aside for me<em>  
><em>for me<em>  
><em>for me<em>

_So you think you can end it and spit in our eyes_

_So you think you can cancel in spite of our cries_

_Oh KP - can't do this to poor KP_  
><em>Just gotta get out – and keep posting our fanfic right here<em>

_Ooh yeah, ooh yeah_  
><em>Nothing really matters<em>  
><em>Anyone can see<em>  
><em>Because it's only fanfic—it doesn't really matter, you see<em>

_Anyway the plot goes..._

(Apologies to Freddie Mercury & _Queen_)

**Chapter 12 – Sweat Dreams – Part 1**

**(and no, it's not a typo)**

Eventually he grew tired of circling his "cell," pounding on its windowless and doorless walls and trying to batter his way out.

Or maybe he wasn't "tired" as much as he was _bored_.

After all, if he was still trapped inside his own mind—at least he thought it was his own mind and not Shego's—then he wasn't really using a corporeal body with real muscles that got tired with use.

And it was becoming increasingly obvious that banging on barriers that surrounded him wasn't producing any kind of evidence that this was a profitable strategy.

It made him mad!

Whoa—on second thought, scratch that term! It made him _angry!_ Yeah, really angry! "Mad" was a term that was too readily associated with his blue-skinned alter-ego and that was one topic he didn't want to visit while he was still trapped inside his own mind.

But that was just the point: it was (presumably) _his own mind_. So he shouldn't be at someone else's mercy.

Even if that someone else was also him.

_C'mon, Stoppable: you should have the home-field advantage,_ he scolded himself. He drew a deep breath and then sat down. Folding his legs into the lotus position, he relaxed his body, set his pose, and began to meditate.

**RSVP**

When the van finally stopped, Bonnie thought that her heart might almost have stopped with it. She heard the rear doors open and a cool breeze blew in causing her to shiver against her wishes to be strong and brave. Moments later she felt herself lifted up and carried out of the cargo section. As the dolly was placed on the ground and she was tilted up again, she could hear the sounds of light traffic in the background. They began to roll her over what felt like some sort of concrete or asphalt surface.

Wherever her captors had taken her, it wasn't some remote field, secluded woods, or abandoned farmhouse. There were people nearby! Potential witnesses! If only someone would notice! And call the police!

But even if that did happen—would they arrive in time?

Bonnie Rockwaller struggled with the realization that the rest of her life might just be measured in minutes rather than hours.

And now she was being rolled up a ramp. From the sound of it, it was probably a makeshift incline of wooden boards over a set of steps.

_Oh Soon,_ she thought, _it will be soon, now…_

**RSVP**

M.C. Honey finished her last phone call with a smile and settled back on her bed with a sigh of contentment. Tomorrow was going to be interesting. She hoped that Ron would appreciate her efforts. She hoped that her arrangements would assist the plan to go all gangsta on this Killigan's ass.

But she also hoped it would work as a double diversion to further her own plan, as well…

...that Ron was such a cutie!

**RSVP**

Monique was exhausted. She had worked overtime in assisting Vivian in producing the materials for her plasma "suit", then taking the necessary measurements, creating the patterns, cutting, sewing—no, "sewing" wasn't the right term for what seemed more like micro-welding the shimmering nano-weave fabric—and supervising the blonde scientist until she was sure that the girl could finish the necessary "interlace" work on her own.

She then stumbled downstairs to her apartment and made a beeline to her bed. Tired as she was, she didn't even see a sweating and disheveled Zita Flores, sitting on her couch in the darkness with the immersion "cap" on her head. She barely took the time to squirm out of her dress before she fell across the bed and made a feeble attempt to locate her pillow.

**RSVP**

The bed was made just so, with the covers turned back so that they might retire with minimal effort. Candles on the nightstand offered a soft romantic glow to the darkened room.

The flickering light seemed to animate the planes and lines of his saturnine features giving his face an illusion of personality, of emotion.

Of an actual soul.

His paramour, his mother, his creator, dressed him in black silk pajamas and led him to their bed where he sat obediently.

"Time for night-night, my little cuddle-monkey!" DNAmy cooed as she urged the synthodrone copy of Montgomery Fiske under the covers and arranged him in a lying down position. Then she made her way around the bed to the other side and climbed in beside him.

"Someday," Dr. Amy Hall whispered to him—not the empty husk she had copied from his DNA but to missing "boyfriend" lost and entombed in stone beneath the depths of the earth—"someday, my army of cuddlebuddies will find that special scroll! Then I'll get you back! And then we can rule the world together!"

She took his hand in hers and stroked the matted fur on its back. "Mastermind and Kim Possible are just stepping stones, my Sweet. "We'll use her just as we used Mrs. Lipsky to get a little closer to our goal. I promise…"

She turned on her side and pulled the back of his hand to her cheek. He did not resist.

Nor did he move throughout the long night.

**RSVP**

There was a popping sensation and Ron found himself in another "room"—a chamber that had a door!

But this wasn't the most important feature about the room. There were two other people there, both seated in front of a wall filled with video screens.

The screens offered voyeuristic views of his friends. Even more disturbing: the other two men in the room were _him_, as well!

_And one of them was blue!_

**RSVP**

Justine rubbed her aching eyes and sighed. "We need to find a way to block the interference from Ron Stoppable's M-wave emissions," she said. If one of us is in the continuum tunnel and the system takes a blue spike…" Her voice trailed off because she honestly didn't know what would happen and, more importantly, she didn't want to imagine…

"What if we could trap it?" Jim asked.

"Like in a magnetic bottle?" Tim elaborated.

"Are you suggesting a containment field modeled on the kind used for nuclear fusion?" she asked.

"Why not?" Jim asked back.

"If the configuration can capture and hold a small sun, why not some blue glow?" Tim finished.

"We've already got the set-up and parts!"

"And we can tune the frequencies of The Tunnel to siphon it off the next time it shows up!"

Justine nodded slowly. "Make it so."

**RSVP**

"Uh oh!" Zorpox said as he noticed Ron Stoppable's sudden appearance in the room. "Heeeeres' Ronny!"

The other Ron leapt from his chair—an action not possible for Evil Blue Ron as he was heavily chained and shackled to his.

"What are you doing?" the real Ron demanded as he approached in a half-crouch, ready to do battle.

The other Ron held up his hands. "Woah! Just seeing to your interests…"

"What interests? How?"

The other Ron looked annoyed. "Dude! What's _wrong_ with you? You're surrounded by all of these babes who want us! Yet you ignore them!"

"I'm not ignoring them! But I'm sure as hell not courting them!"

"Why not? You could make a lot of women happy! And they could make us—"

"That's just wrongsick! And there is no _us!_ It's just _me!_"

"Ooooh, that's where you're so wrong, Ronnie-o!" Zorpox giggled, his eyes bright and feverish. You're us. And we're you! Ah boo-ya-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

The other Ron shrugged. "Captain Giggles may be out of his true-blue mind but he's right on this, you know. We're all parts of your gestalt personality. Each one of us is but a potion of the totality that is Ronald Dean Stoppable."

"But I'm still in charge," the real Ron huffed, slowly circling the room. "The rest of you have to obey me!" He stopped. "Wait—how many of you are there?"

"To quote Walt Whitman: we are large; we contain multitudes!" Zorpox sing-songed.

"And it's not necessarily true that we have to obey you. Everyone has times when their subconscious takes over. More often than not it's a good thing."

Ron was flabbergasted. "How is what you're doing a good thing?"

"We're just giving them what they want."

"And what's that?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"You."

"You're manipulating their minds! They don't want me!"

"Oh but they do, Ronniekins! And since you won't make any conscious moves, we're just removing the barriers that are keeping you apart," Zorpox giggled.

"Yeah? Well, _stop it!_ Right now!"

"Stop what?" the blue lunatic whined with a wide grin. "I'm all chained up here. Can't do a thing…"

Ron swung his gaze to his other self. "So what is he doing here? And don't try to lie to me: I can't lie to myself!"

"Unless it's about Kimberly Ann Possible!" Zorpox crowed. "Or the green goddess! Or the brunette bitch queen!"

"Shut up!" both Rons yelled at him.

"He's sort of my battery," the other Ron confessed. "Something about his unlocked intellect—and his blueness—makes him a conduit for your MMP."

"Oh dear God," Ron breathed.

"But I don't use it destructively!" the other continued. "I've used it to surround you with allies! Friends willing to fight and, if necessary, even die for you. This is good on so many levels!"

"It's _wrong_ on so many levels!" Ron yelled back at him. "And it stops right here, right—" his head suddenly swung back towards Zorpox. "What is he doing?"

The blue lunatic had wriggled out of his boots and had raised his bare feet to the table in front of the wall of view screens. His toes were busily tapping away on the keyboard there. "Who? Me?" he asked with an evil grin. "Just getting one last lick in before you spoil all of our fun!"

And he brought his heel down on _a single button. A beautiful, shiny button, a jolly candy-like button…_

(Well, you get the idea. And be the first to identify the cartoon source for the italicized button above and get a cameo appearance in RSVP II: The Two Powers)

"Oh dear," the other Ron said as all of the screens flashed blue!

**RSVP**

_That night there were some rather vivid and intense dreams making the rounds…_

_**Heather's Dream**_

HBO's new series, _The Untold Adventures of Team Possible_ was a huge success.

Heather wanted to believe that some of the historic ratings were attributable to her portrayal of the still-missing, formerly teenaged hero. It probably hadn't hurt that studio had passed over Quinn for the role of Ron Stoppable: everyone had finally figured out that the soul-patched twenty-something had the emotional range of a cumquat when it came to any of his on-screen appearances.

But casting Ron Stoppable to play the role of Ron Stoppable had been a rare stroke of genius and delivered the female demographic beyond their wildest dreams.

Of course, the real Ron wasn't an experienced actor and so he needed a lot of coaching. Coaching that she was more than happy to provide when the day's shooting was over.

"So, Ron…would you like to run tomorrow's lines with me over dinner?" she asked as they sat in the makeup trailer after their final scene of the day.

"That would be great, H.P.," he answered as he tried not to swallow the small sponge that the star struck makeup girl was using to clean his face. "Where did you want to go?"

"I thought we'd order in some pizza—or Chinese—or whatever delivery you'd like," she answered. "We could dine in and run lines in my trailer. Or yours, if you prefer."

"Sounds bondiggity! I need all the help I can get!"

It was decided that she would order and that they would meet in her trailer in twenty minutes.

_HD_

"Wow, it's kind of close in here," Ron remarked as he stepped up into Heather's personal trailer nearly half an hour later.

The redheaded actress smiled. "Actually, this is a pretty big trailer, Ron. It just seems smaller because you've got one of the biggest ones they make. You are the star, after all."

"Who, me? Naw!" he waved the thought off. "I'm just me. You're the star. And you're playing Kim Possible, so: double star!"

She laughed. "Oh Ron, you're far too modest! You're the one that everyone tunes in to see."

"Well, if you like, we could practice out lines over in my trailer. Plenty of room. But—uh—I'll need a few minutes to straighten up."

"Don't be silly: I have room enough. Besides…I kind of like it…" she licked her lips, "…tight…"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "If you say so…"

She gestured to the couch next to a small table with a stack of scripts. "Make yourself comfortable."

As he sat on the miniature sofa he looked up and said: "Oh hey, you're still in costume."

She shook her head with a sly grin. "Nope. I came back here and took a quick shower and changed into this. It's my own personal mission outfit. I keep it in my closet and wear it after hours when I want to get into character. Like for rehearsing and stuff." She did a slow turn. "How do I look?"

"Wow—I mean—wow!" He shook his head. "Though you might want to wash it in cold water and tumble dry on low heat. I think the fabric has kind of shrunk…"

Heather looked down at the black fabric stretched tight across her chest. Clearly she wasn't wearing a bra and the ribbed material was keeping her nipples wide awake.

"The studio has already told costuming to make our outfits more form-fitting, Ron. Besides, like I just said," she smiled, "I like things…tight."

At that moment there was a knock on the trailer door: their dinner had arrived.

_HD_

"Now see, here's another part that they got wrong!" her blond co-star complained, waving his chopsticks around.

"It's called artistic license," Heather explained with a giggle as she set her box of mu-shu pork aside. She slumped down on her end of the couch and put her feet up on the tiny table that had been moved into the aisle. "Scripts and movies and TV shows would be incredibly boring if they were totally factual and true-to-life. Everybody knows that what they watch on the boob tube is fictionalized—even the so-called reality shows."

"Yeah, but I didn't save Kim's life that time, she saved mine!" As he finished the sentence, a piece of hunan chicken exited the end of his chopsticks, flew up into the air, and fell back down onto Heather's midriff. Two pairs of eyes followed its slow progress as it slid down into the cup of her navel on a trickle of spicy sauce.

"Uh…oops?" he said.

"Ro-on—" she sing-songed.

"Er, wow; you really nailed that. You sounded just like Kim!"

"Well, I have been practicing."

"Well, you're doing great."

Both pairs of eye returned to the morsel of chicken.

"Erm, where do you keep your spare napkins?" he finally asked.

"I'm all out of napkins," she said with a slow smile.

"Uh, washcloth? Towel?"

"Ron," Heather said, affecting a pseudo-stern expression, "it's your mess; you clean it up."

"Ah, okay. Don't move…" He slowly extended his chopsticks toward the errant bit of food. A drop of sauce dripped from the end of one of the bamboo sticks and fell on her lower belly. As she was folded into a semi-prone position with her feet elevated, the sauce trickled downwards into her navel, as well. Now the piece of chicken was starting to float a bit.

Ron closed the ends of the chopsticks around the chicken but it slipped out of his grasp. Ditto the second and third attempts with the result of the greasy meat sliding around on her bared stomach. Heather giggled and then shrieked as he ended up poking her a little too hard in his fourth attempt to round up the elusive treat.

"Stop!" she commanded. "No chopsticks!"

He dropped them into his take-out box and reached again, opening his fingers.

"No," she commanded again. You've got sauce on your fingers. I'm already messy enough!"

"You want me to wash my hands?"

"No. There's no time: the sauce is starting to run down my side and I don't want to get any on the furniture." She squirmed a little. "What's the matter, Ron? Aren't you still hungry?" She gave him a look that she practically dared him to misinterpret,

"Ah…well…er…if you're sure…"

"Hurry, Ron!"

He leaned over her and eyed the trickle of sauce that was wending its way down the curve of her waist.

"You're running out of time!"

Ron leaned in to where he could actually smell the ginger and hot Chile peppers mixed in with the soy sauce. Extending his tongue, he brought the tip up the side of her torso to catch the trickle and chased it back onto the flat plane of her tummy.

She trembled and then sighed.

"Okay, I think that's got it…"

"Oh no," she corrected, "you made the whole mess, you have to clean it allllll up!" She grabbed his ears and pulled his face down to her stomach. "All of it, mister!"

After a moment's study of the affected area, Ron opened his mouth again and moved in to where he could pick up the chicken with his teeth. As his lips closed, they brushed the rim of her bellybutton, almost as if those two openings had met in a gentle kiss.

Swallowing the offending food, he tried to raise his head but the redheaded starlet was having none of that. "I said: all of it…" she murmured, continuing to hold his head down.

"You know," she sighed, as he licked the fine tendrils of sauce from her abdomen, "this is what we call improv in the acting business…"

"Empahv?" he tried to ask as she mashed his face to her middle.

"It's where two actors just start improvising dialog and interaction and see where the process takes them. A lot of shows have a fair bit of improv in some of their scenes." She squirmed a little as his tongue touched a ticklish spot. "I'll bet the writers would let us work something like this into one of the scripts."

"Wealy?"

"Sure. Why not? We'll be doing a nude scene in a couple of wee—"

"Ood seed?"

"Well, it's a love scene and we will be pretty much nude. Didn't you read the fine print on your contract?"

"Uh-uh!"

"Well, don't worry. It will be done very tastefully seeing as how you and Kim are worldwide heroes. The important part is to be very natural."

She finally let him raise his head.

"Heather, I don't know if I know how to be natural! I mean, I've only been with one woman that way and that one woman wasn't Kim. And doing it with someone who's pretending to be Kim while a bunch of people are standing around, watching and pointing cameras and lights and—"

She laid a finger over his lips. "It will be a closed set. Just three or four people after the lights are set and the mics are adjusted. And the key to acting natural, under these circumstances, is practice. Lots and lots of practice."

"Practice?" he asked with a puzzled expression in his face.

She nodded with a smile. "Lots and lots! Here, let me show you." She sat up and moved Ron back against the cushions on his end of the couch. "Remember that scene where Kim kisses you for saving her life?"

He shook his head. "She saved my life and I kissed her."

"Doesn't matter: a life was saved and the two of you kissed. Except we have to play the scene the way it was written."

He frowned. "What about improv?"

"Well, improv is a very important part of rehersal. Let me demonstrate. You've just saved my life and I'm very grateful. Like in the script."

"But—"

She held up a hand to cut him off. "Artistic license," Ron. It's sort of like improv. Now, I'm going to kiss you. Ready?"

"I guess."

"Here we go…and…action!" She leaned over him. "Oh, Ron; you saved me! Thank you!" She pressed her lips to his. It was a soft, gentle kiss and she held it for maybe five seconds.

"So, what did you think?" she asked, straightening up.

"Pretty nice," he said with a smile.

She shook her head and her smile went away. "No. Baseline. The bare bones of scene blocking. The director, the studio—hell, the audience, is going to expect more. Like this…and…action!" Her chest began to heave and her eyes grew moist. "Oh, Ron! Oh my God!" She leaned down and placed her hands on his chest. "You…you saved me!" She clutched his head and pulled him to her bosom. "I thought—I thought I was done for! I would have died if not for you!" She tilted his face up and kissed him again, softly and tenderly as before.

He opened his mouth as she finished and started to speak but she spoke over him: "You are the most amazing, sweet, brave, incredible man that I have ever known! I owe you my life!" Again her lips came down on his but they weren't as soft or gentle this time. Her mouth was hungry, now, and it was as if she wanted to devour him. Her hands were as insistent as her lips, running through his hair, caressing his back and shoulders, then clutching his head as she broke this kiss with a gasp. Now she was breathing hard, as if she were starved for air.

"That was really—"

His words were cut off as she began to cover his face with kisses. "I can never begin to repay you for giving me back my life!" she whispered. "Everything I have, everything I am—is yours!" Her mouth found his again and this time there was the added sensation of a tongue probing past his lips and teeth. She found his tongue, in turn, and began to gently suck on it, drawing it into her own mouth. Her hands returned to his chest and began to gently massage his pectoral muscles. As her hands worked their way up to the open collar of his shirt, she leaned back a little and said: "Oh Ron, I have never wanted you so much as I want you, now!" And, with that, she wrenched at his collar, tearing his shirt open and exposing his chest.

Now she licked at the hollow of his throat and began kissing her way down his chest as he gasped: "Oh, wow, man! Is this what you mean by improv?"

"We're getting to that," she said hoarsely. "Remember what I said about the love scene?"

"Er…that it was…like…a nude scene?"

"That, too! But to get the natural aspect we must employ lots of improv and lots of practice!"

"Lots?" he echoed, his own voice getting a bit hoarse, as well.

She nodded, taking his hands in hers and running them up over her breasts. "Lots and lots," she agreed, curling his fingers over the neckline of her black crop top. She pulled his hands down sharply, tearing the fabric apart and freeing her own chest to his startled gaze. "Oh, Ron! Take me! Take me now!"

And over the next three hours of this first of _many_ after-hours rehearsals, she taught Ron Stoppable every possible nuance of the concept of improvisation.

Lots and lots and lots...

It was a long dream.

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: The oft used phrase is "Sweet Dreams" but this—and the ones to follow—are kind of "sweaty" so…<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN 2:**_

_**This time around I've seen a batch of new readers come on board, even adding me to your alert and favorite subsriptions. It's just one more step to add some reviews: c'mon, you know you really want to...**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 12<strong>

_Wolvenstrom 3/20/12 . chapter 12_

I'm not complaining, but is 'every single' woman thats ever had even 1 line in the show going to find themselves in bed...or wherever they want with Ron?

I mean seriously Heather? MC Honey and Britina? With the amount of women he's attracting (especially since what you said about the ratings) I don't think _Hugh Hefner could boast a little black book nearly as full._

_**Are you sure you're not complaining? (lol) Stick around and see what kind of a day dawns once this looooong night is over. And who said anyone is in bed with "Ron"? R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 320/12 . chapter 12_

so it was old man subconcious all along

and i would have gotten away with it if it werent for you meddling $%&*: "£$%!

well i guess thing are going to get trippy ill go get the strobe lights disco ball and psychadelia posters

_**Sounds like "Old Man Smithers" from every third episode of Scooby Doo: "You meddlesome kids!" (lol!) R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 320/12 . chapter 12_

Zorpox should write for some of the 'Blue Channels'... on cable.

And what follows from this bit of 'Improv' with the others?

CB73

_**Keep your—er—shirt on, CB: we'll find out about the fallout in this and, at least one more chapter before the real trouble begins. He he… R~13**_

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><p><em>Batamut320/12 . chapter 11_

Ron is such a prude :p or repressing as his libido is acting out (does he know that denying base insticts make them come out in different ways, which is different than acknoldging it exists but not acting on it.)

Good story tastefully done

_**Thanks! I do try to balance a sense of decorum while trying to be realistic about a super-powered Id running amuck. As for suppression? Ron's in for a little game of Whack-a-Mole right now… R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 320/12 . chapter 12_

Dang you have to give a real name to Mama Lipsky...I propose Zelda. I mean she has to be alive there is no way that bi%*& could croak that easy. Dang what am I gonna have to do...that's it I just put her in 'TH'. And it won't be pretty either!

_**Looking forward to that!**_

So you know Zorpox really isn't evil...he's bored, reallllly bored and you've got to do something to distract him...like give him oh Diff errr I mean Duff

_**Funny you should say that. I think the Big Z is misunderstood. We'll be getting into his actual motivations a little more down the road...**_

And now Monique is crashing and Zita is...uh...well what is she doing? Now you also have to do something real fun to Duff...why not let Zorpox play with him? Hummmm now that would be fun anybody who is smart enough to make a mega weather machine ought to be able to come up with a way to off the golfer.

_**Sure, but the collateral damage could be immense!**_

Like I said nobody offs Anne...only a rat and I mean a big stinkin' RAT would do something like that.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**Zelda? I like that. She looks like a Zelda—not the one in the video game with Link but, yes. Oh, don't worry about Duff: he's got bigger problems than Zorpox! And…stepping back slowly from Anne! See? Looky: Anne's just fine. Not making any sudden moves, here. Nothing to worry about! We're all just friends here… R~13**_

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 726/13 . chapter 12_

I'm just appalled by the sheer amount of activity taking place in this otherwise highly condensed chapter which is not to say "condensed" is in the same vein as say compression software used in the current programming market but rather "compressed" in the same sense as a the terminus stage of the lifecycle of under-evolved steller entities which we vulgar physicalities mis-perceive as simple stars by which our planetary domiciles (in this dimension of existence, anyway) depend so heavily upon for light, heat, some level of sustenance, and a slightly larger although potentially fatal level radiological hazard by which our sequencing of basic amino acids is altered to within .001 to .009 of a percent within a given generation or which cause our physicalities an unendurable level of damage whereby we die which is pretty much where poor Ron seems to be heading even through prior readings of this same story confirm nothing so untoward will happen to him for the duration of Book 2 which brings us back to the original point in that this is becoming a very, very dense read because there is so, so, so, so much stuff happening you might as well try to follow the career of a certain ex-pat from the now-voided planet of Krypton since his first appearance in the funny books back in the 1930s, something that anyone serious about the subject will inform you is a fools errand as there was never a single, cohesive or continuous storyline to the characters life and career any more than there was one for said character's counterpart in smelly old Gotham and Team Possible could always have beaten the pair in question with one arm tied behind their partner's backs and why the hell didn't head!Ron think to keep all of Zorprox's digits restrained as the blue-tinged looney lab escapee made the whole of Team Possible's rogue's gallery look like the rank amateurs they actually were and I've pretty much run out of breath for this one exhale so please update soon and I need to call the emergency services as I've likely given myself brain damage due to oxygen starvation for talking this fast for this long and why are you wearing a flowerpot on your head...oh hello Rufus who is not Rufus and not Rufus T Firefly but the Rufiest Rufus of the Rufiest...Rue the day...good night.

_**Uber, the C.I.A. called. Project MKULTRA wants their LSD back. ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>Guest 727/13 . chapter 12_

Good chapters. (Desert Fox roles his eyes at author's disclaimer in ch. 10.) Personally, I would write at the beginning of the story. I do not own anything but the plot, and any characters you don't recognize. If anyone thinks that I own any other character, I have a bridge I'd like to sell you or how about I introduce you to my good friend Napoleon XIV. I would've snickered at the term "pookie bear" and then turned to the other and mouthed, "Pookie Bear?" Bot's belly-button. Say that three times fast.

"_**That three times real fast." ;-) Thanks for the disclaimer! I've put it at the beginning of Chapter 44.**_

So basically Dede blew a fuse. At least she didn't get a nosebleed. I think I'll take Pluto and the Plutonian System that orbits around the planet thank you very much. Actually, Ron didn't know that Kim was still alive or being held captive. Not to mention that his mind has temporarily forgotten her. I still say, even though I never actually said it in a review, that Ron was better off forgetting Yori than Kim. Brock-oli colored? I think she's mint colored, possibly Kelly Green.

**_I think Kim was mad and going for snarky alliteration over color-scale accuracy. I think it depends on Shego's _**_** mood, actually. At least that's my story…**_

Freckles? That's a new one to describe Ronnie.

_**Must be a ghet-to thang... **_

Ahh, but if she had a Rhodes piano, she could play "Ride Captain Ride".

I think the word you want is soldering iron. I think you were wise to ignore Sentinel 103. A multi-character death on a count of many characters in the story and wanting to make things simpler is not a good idea. 'Sides didn't a large number of villains die at the beginning of this book?

**_The "riding" stuff will come later. Fixed the soldering iron typo: thanks! Not so many villains: just Fukushima, Camille Leon, and Mastermind come to mind along with some unnamed ninjas. The others are around and currently serving as Dark Kim's minions._**

BTW: Eisner has been sacked from Disney. Bob Iger is now the big cheese. Eisner was sacked back in 2004 as Disney Chairman. He was replaced by Former Senator George "the Mitchell Report" Mitchell. In 2005 he was replaced as CEO by Iger. Iger now holds both positions. BTW: I think it's apologies to Queen as Freddy is deceased and could care less. Was Justine doing her impression of Captain Picard with the "Make it so" line? "Here's Ronnie", from either Johnny Carson or the "Shining". "Will the real Ron Stoppable, please stand up, please stand up."

I once saw that Hugh Heffner hosted a television show back in the late 1960s. "Playboy After Dark". Deep Purple made an appearance performing "Hush".

I didn't mean the doctors themselves. I meant the aliens that would show up.

Keep up the good work.

**_DF, is that you? I just remember Eisner as being the guy that everyone was mad at during the series when the first rumors of cancellation began to surface. I used to be up on this stuff but have kind of been stressing over some other issues for the past four years. I found FFdotNET & started doing this as a de-stressor. Freddy Mercury is still around-dead-but still around. One pays tribute where tribute is due, alive or dead or in-between (just ask Yori). We've already had a Star Wars line, I just couldn't pass up a Trek opportunity. Both, actually: Zorpox riffing on Jack riffing on Johnny. You may have to wait awhile: the "real" Ron Stoppable is now in process and currently in a state of flux. R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 93/13 . chapter 12 _

The only people I can think that wouldn't know where the, ' sweat' in, " sweat dreams" comes from are kids.

And imagining kids trying to read this while covering their eyes is funny as hell...

**_Guess they'll have to wait for the audiobooks. ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>DJ Rodriguez chapter 12 . 825/14_

This story is very interesting, albit a bit confusing at first like the first book of this series, but still good! Ron Stoppable with a harem... I LOVE IT! Hope to see more soon! Keep it up!

_**Harem? Why does everyone keep using this strange and unfamiliar word? I remain baffled... R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 12 . 827/14_

"Some say he never blinks, and that he roams around the woods at night foraging for wolves. All we know is he's called the Stig."

_**Ah, DF...borrowing the multi-part review style of Uberscribbler? R~13 **_


	13. Sweat Dreams - Part 2

**Authors/Notes: **

**This chapter has been considerably reworked and expanded. Originally I had compressed the dream elements into two chapters. I had considered turning each dream into a separate, stand-alone chapter and posting them as separate elements outside of the "Two Powers" story-file. That way I could continue the story and post another dream-file as I got around to it. While my faithful readers would have had to go back to my Profile Page to find these sequences and read them out of order, they would have had the benefit of not waiting until they were all written to continue on with the story.**

**Well, instead, I've elected to rewrite and expand those two chapters so that they'll become three or possibly four while providing some additional waking side-story action while the others sleep.**

**(8/25/14) Well if you read the last go-round, you know that the dream sequences ended up as a four chapter run. This chapter contains a brand new dream with this repost: see if you can figure out who's new to the mix...**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ See disclaimers for RSVP Chapters 1 through 54._

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><p><strong>Chapter 13 – Sweat Dreams – Part 2<strong>

The dolly wove through what felt like a veritable labyrinth before coming to a final stop. She was tilted up so that she was completely upright now.

"Unbind her!" an imperious voice commanded. A woman's voice.

Bonnie racked her memories for known female villains as her restraints were loosened and removed. _That Shego person who hung out with that blue doctor with the tiny hands? No, her voice was lower, huskier. This voice was younger. What was the name of that blonde, extreme stunts girl who had kidnapped Brick a few years ago? The one that was always saying "Freaky"?_ She hoped it wasn't that creepy geneticist who liked to turn people into giant versions of those plush-toys that Kim Possible liked to collect!

_Great! In addition to a nightmare list of murder, rape, and white slavery, I can add being turned into some kind of freaky cuddle-buddy!_

She thought about struggling but her arms were held by a pair of strong hands on either side.

The cruel voice spoke again: "It is time!"

The bag was pulled from her head.

After being in darkness for so long, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. Fortunately the only illumination in the room came from a dozen candles or so arranged around what looked like some kind of sacrificial altar.

Bonnie felt her heart drop into her stomach. Lying on the center of the altar was a wicked-looking dagger with a wavy, twisty blade.

And, standing around the altar were twelve—no—thirteen people wearing hooded robes, their faces obscured by the darkness and the way that the large cowls drooped over the upper halves of their faces!

**RSVP**

The Other-Ron yanked Zorpox's chair away from the console. "Dude! What did you do?"

"Do?" The blue version of Ron Stoppable giggled in his chains. "I merely acted boldly and decisively where you were too timid and," he jerked his head toward the "real" Ron, "the Big Spoilsport over there would have shut you down!"

"Nothing's changed," Real Ron growled, "I'm _still_ gonna shut you down!"

"Too late!" Zorpox crowed, "the deed is done!" He spun in his chair. "Cry havoc! And loose the dogs of—"

"War?" the "real" Ron finished.

"Lust!" Blue-Ron crowed.

"Oh…_crap!_" the Other-Ron said.

**RSVP**

"How long?" Justine asked.

"Depends," Jim answered.

"We can create the containment field now but we don't know—" Tim continued.

"—how long it will last," Jim finished.

"Give us a little more time," they both told her.

Justine fumed. While undeniably brilliant, she was also impatient. Especially with success so much closer to her grasp, now.

She turned back to her console and began flipping switches. While the Possible twins were completing their tests, she decided to run a few more tests of her own. She fired up the aligned rings and activated the Einstein-Rosen bridge.

_Surely it can't hurt to take a little peek_, she thought, tuning the coordinates of the event horizon to a few blocks away and a few weeks ago.

**RSVP**

That night there were some rather vivid and intense dreams that _continued_ to make the rounds…

_**Anne's Dream**_

She dreamed that she was back in college.

Which was confusing because she had just graduated from high school last spring…

…hadn't she?

Nonetheless, she dreamed that she was back in this familiar, second floor walk-up that seemed even more crowded now that there were three of them.

Well, two-and-a-quarter, actually.

Her Anatomy textbook was propped up on the table so that she could study as she rocked their infant daughter to sleep. Her husband was quietly drying the last of the dishes as little Kimberly finally dozed off.

Which was odd…because _she_ was Kimberly…

…_wasn't she?_

As Ron leaned down and gently took the baby from her, he kissed her lips, licking the little desert frosting that still lurked at the corner of her mouth. She sighed and then stretched as he carried their daughter to her crib on the other side of the room. When he returned, he lifted up her feet from the other kitchen chair and sat down so that they rested in his lap.

She moaned as he slipped off her shoes and began to massage her feet. "I'm warning you, Mister," she hissed as his thumbs pressed into the balls of her feet, "you've got just two hours to stop doing that!"

"Only two?" he teased as he worked down the soles of her feet to her heels.

"Well, don't you have a Physics exam tomorrow?" she said, trying not to moan too loudly and wake the baby.

"True. But it's mostly lift, thrust, and trajectory."

She arched a coppery eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"It's rocket science." He grinned. "You know me and rockets: this one will be a cinch."

"That's what you said about last semester's Chemistry final." She smirked. "It took them a week to replace all of the second floor windows in the Chemistry Building."

He smiled as he caught the look in her eye. "Woman, I know what I'm doing."

"Prove it."

"What? Again?"

She nodded with a slow smile.

Carefully removing her feet from his lap, he stood and she got up with him.

"Lift, thrust, and trajectory," he reiterated as she unzipped her jeans and shimmied out of them. "Or I should say: Lift, trajectory, and thrust," he continued as his own pants joined hers in a puddle on the kitchen floor.

"How about a count-down, Mr. Stoppable?"

"I'll let you do the honors, Mrs. Stoppable." He began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Alright…ten!" She grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up over her head. The "nine" and the "eight" were a bit muffled as the material covered her face on the way up and off. "Seven…six…" she continued as her top joined her jeans on the floor.

He was distracted in the process of removing his own clothes as he took in the lithe form of the neuro-surgeon-to-be. The translucent blue bra and panties matched her incredible eyes and contrasted nicely with her pale Irish skin and bright red hair. Her stomach was surprisingly flat and toned for just having had a baby a few months ago and her breasts were swollen from nursing their daughter giving her an unaccustomed "top heavy" appearance for now. "…five…four…" Reaching behind her to unfasten her brassiere, she thrust them out all the more and he reacted in such a way that he had difficulty in dropping his boxers—a problem he had never had before.

"Three…two…" her panties were next and they drifted down to her ankles like a pale blue mist. "One. Oh my!" she exclaimed, "looks like all systems are..._go!_"

Scooping her up in his arms, he said: "Lift off." He carried her toward the apartment's tiny bedroom.

"So, this is what you rocket scientists mean when you're talking about 'lift'!" she said as he moved to the bed.

"Yes ma'am. Lift and trajectory."

"Oooo, tell me about trajectory," she said as he brought her in for a soft landing on the mattress.

"Well," he said, as he crawled onto the bed with her, "it's mostly about the angle and direction you choose, depending on whether you want to go suborbital or achieve a self-sustaining orbit."

"What about _deep_ space exploration?" she asked with an expression of unnatural fascination.

"Well, my little space cadet, that would require a higher angle…"

"Like this?" she asked, raising her hips up to meet him.

"Y-yes," he said a little hoarsely, moving to align with her.

She reached down. "The launch window is open…Commander…"

"Soooo," he sighed, setting up a docking maneuver, "all vectors are green to go…trajectory is set to maximum…all we need fo-or our deep…space…probe…is…"

"Thrust!" she said.

"Lots and lots of thrust," he agreed.

"Lots and _lots!_" she insisted.

_AD_

"Ooooh, Ronnie," she cooed sometime later, "you really are a rocket scientist!"

"Well, you seem to know your way around a joystick pretty well yourself, Cadet."

"I never knew a 'delta burn' could sound so awful and feel so nice!"

"So, I take it you might like to attempt a re-entry?"

"Mmmmm, okay." She smiled and rolled over on her stomach.

"Um…ah…I said _re_-entry…not rear—"

"What's the matter, Commander? Afraid to go where no man has gone before?"

_**Joss's Dream**_

Joss found herself admiring Ron's new found confidence as he rode ahead of her up the winding mountain pass. He sat comfortably in a saddle now. Maybe it was because he wasn't clinging to a runaway robotic horse named Tornado.

But it probably had more to do with the changes in him that the last couple of years had brought about.

Ron Stoppable had come into his power. His body had "grown into" his once over-sized hands and feet. He had come out from her cousin's long shadow.

And he had known the responsibilities of being a husband and almost a father.

She looked down at her own, vastly matured body. She, too, had changed a great deal, though her transformation was largely physical and pretty much unnatural. Even though the Global Justice doctors and scientists had told her that this was the twenty-five year-old body that she was always destined to grow into, her heart and mind still had a great deal of catching up to do.

But she was trying!

She knew that the reason that Ron wouldn't let her get close to him was that he still viewed her as underage and immature. It didn't help that she was Kim's cousin. Or that all of her spare time seemed to be taken up with dealing with her changed circumstances or "babysitting" her Aunt Anne. Or that all the women in his increasingly complicated life seemed to be crushing on him.

Or that he was an orphan and a widower still in mourning with a baby sister to raise.

The nice thing about this dream was that it was hers and none of that other stuff mattered here.

They were alone and they were together and she was taking him to see her favorite place in the whole, wide world!

As they rode up ever higher into the Rockies, she could feel the tensions and cares drop away from them both. Up here, none of what was down there mattered. She could see the cares seemingly slip from his eyes. His body relaxed as the swaying of the horse rocked the stiffness out of his back and shoulders.

At last they reached the hidden plateau that no one else knew about. Not even her father, Slim Possible.

They rode through miles of wildflowers and sweet grass to a secluded canyon where there was a natural stone windbreak and a clear mountain stream that tumbled down the moss covered rocks into a small lake before continuing its path across the meadow and down the other side of the mountain.

As she saw to the horses, he pitched the tent, built a fire, and made a delicious camp supper. They ate as the setting sun limned the adjacent peaks in breathtaking reds, golds, oranges, and purples.

As a crescent moon set sail like a ghostly galleon on a rising starry tide, they sat together on an old log as she pointed out the different constellations. He made her giggle by making up funny stories about each of them. When she shivered at the touch of the night wind, he opened his jacket and hugged her against him; the warmth of his body kindling the fire in her own.

Here, in her dreams, she was more than the sum of her birthdays. More, even, than the mature body that she now wore, with the breasts and hips of woman who might take a lover in his forties or older.

In her dreams she was a grown woman. A woman who knew who she was and what she wanted.

A woman who knew her heart.

And, in her dreams, Ron Stoppable understood this.

He knew her and he understood her heart.

And he was here, with her now, by choice.

Inside the tent, the lantern cast a warm glow that kept the night's gloom and chill at bay. Even so, he zipped their two sleeping bags together to trap their body heat more efficiently.

And now there was one less barrier between them.

Even after the lantern was extinguished, the trapped heat inside the sleeping bags had them shedding the last of their clothes and so, finally, there was nothing between them but their own skin. And, after an hour or so of touching and embracing and snuggling…even that last barrier was finally, wonderfully, ecstatically, breached…

_**Vivian's Dream**_

It wasn't unusual for Dr. Vivian F. Porter to dream in the Star Trek universe. In fact, as a long-time fan-girl she had enjoyed Trek-themed dreams with exploits in the Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager, and even the Enterprise versions of the space show franchise. She often commanded her own starship and had held ranks ranging from captain to admiral.

So, she wasn't sure how she had ended up in the Classic Trek "Mirror Universe" this time around.

_Ensign_ Vivian Porter, late of the Starship Enterprise, was now on the I.S.S. Enterprise where the crew was a blend of cruel, petty minions of the barbaric Terran Empire.

And, right now, she was being escorted to the Agonizer Booth by the ship's science officer for interrogation.

She knew that he had been intimidated by her technical skills in the past—well, her alternate's skills, anyway. But her disorientation and odd behavior at finding herself in this parallel dimension—where everything was practically the same and everyone was nearly the exact opposite of those she had known until just hours before—had given the goateed half-human the excuse he had long desired to make an example of her.

Her manacled hands clutched at her queasy stomach as she imagined the pain and degradation about to befall her. Her belly, now bared by the two-piece, blue science uniform that the Terran Empire dressed their female crew members in, erupted in gooseflesh and she shivered as he slid his hairy hand down the curve of her waist.

She was surely doomed. The half-breed First Officer outranked her and she had nowhere to run even if she could escape his hairy clutches. She remembered the whispered stories of the other female crew members and felt sick. Her captor outranked everyone on the ship except for-

"Mr. Fiske, what is going on here?" demanded an authoritative voice that was strangely familiar.

His hands stiffened on her arm and on her side. "Nothing, Captain."

"Nothing, Mr. Fiske? Then perhaps you won't mind remanding the ensign into my custody?"

She looked up at Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Fiske's almost simian features as he struggled to suppress his fury. And then at Captain Stoppable, looking decidedly yummy in his gold velour crossed vest that went so well with his blond hair and showed his impressively muscled arms.

As she pulled away and walked toward her savior, Fiske growled: "There's something wrong about her! She needs to be interrogated!"

The captain smiled pleasantly. "I'm sure you're right, Monty. I'll take her straight to my quarters and examine her…_thoroughly_."

Gently taking her arm, he turned her away from the half-human/half-simian sadist and began walking her away from the corridor leading to the Agonizer Booth. As they neared his cabin, he leaned down and softly spoke into her ear. "Two questions, Ensign. Would you prefer your…interrogation…with the manacles on or off? And do you think you could…oh…scream a little from time to time? I'm sure that Mr. Fiske will be listening outside my door and we don't want to…um…arouse his suspicions, do we?"

She clutched his muscular arm and whispered back: "That's three questions, Captain. And my answers are One: let's leave them on for awhile—my safe word is 'shields up'. Two: that's going to depend on you—though you may want to put away any glassware. And three: all of the arousing that I plan to do has nothing to do with Monkey-boy Fiske…"

_**Tara's Dream**_

All of the castaways were gathered on the beach of the uncharted tropical island with one exception.

Rather than wait for her, the Skipper squared his broad shoulders and yelled: "Alright, people, listen up! I know this wasn't what you signed up for…"

"We signed up for the three-hour tour," Señor Senior Junior interrupted. "Isn't that true, Lovey?"

The brunette with the teal eyes just folded her arms across her chest and glared at Ron Stoppable. "Mighty sailing man, my ass! We're probably shipwrecked because the froob can't read a chart!"

"This is terrible!" the ginger-haired actress moaned. "I'm supposed to be shooting a new movie next week!"

"Don't worry, people," Captain Barkin said. "I've been talking to the Professor, here, and he says he can make a big chain of batteries out of the coconuts we found so we can get a distress signal out. He's a genius!"

Dr. Load nodded. "We have just enough coconuts to create a viable chemical reaction to produce the necessary voltage to activate the emergency transponders. It will take every coconut we have but I've done the calculations three times and we should be able to do it as long as we use _every last coconut_!"

"Ooooo, Professor!" Heather slinked over to the African-American boy and ran her fingers through his hair. "I think smart people are really sexy!"

Skipper Barkin suddenly looked around the beach as if he was missing something. "Hey, where's the country girl? Where's Tara-Ann?"

She chose that moment to make her appearance, coming out of the jungle and walking down the beach to join the others. Her hips undulated the brief cut-off shorts she wore Daisy Dukes style and the tails of her sleeveless, red-checked shirt were knotted just below her breasts to display her toned, tanned torso. She carried a pie in each hand and a third was balanced atop her pigtailed blonde hair.

Lovey Rockwaller Senior smacked her billionaire husband on the back of his head as he stared at Tara-Ann with a mix of admiration and hunger.

"Here's those pies I promised you, Ronnie," she said, walking right up to him.

The Professor sniffed the air and eyed the pastries suspiciously. "What kind of pies?" he asked.

"Ronnie's favorite," she answered with a sweet smile; "coconut!"

"Uh, and where did you get the coconuts to make these pies?" Dr, Load asked with a sick expression on his face,

"Ronnie got them for me," she answered, beaming.

Captain Barkin's face took on that constipated look on his face that everyone knew so well. "And where did you get those coconuts, Little Buddy?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Ron shrugged. "I found them this morning next to the professor's hut. There was a big pile of them right next to his door…

Moments later the rest of the castaways were chasing Ron all over the island like an old-time Keystone Kops movie.

Except for Tara-Ann. She sat on a piece of driftwood and smiled as she licked coconut crème from her fingers. She'd known the significance of the collection next to the professor's hut when she'd sent Ron to get some for her pies. Now she was assured that he would remain trapped on the island and she would continue to have him all to herself for a _long_ time to come…

**M.E.L.'s Dream**

The tiger-striped stretch pants were skin-tight and molded a perfect pair of legs that went up and up and cupped a perfect derrière framed by hips that were both lush and tight! The torso above the low riding waistband was a flattened hourglass. A ripple of toned abdominal muscles surrounded a tiny, T-shaped umbilicus that was pieced with a dangling whorl of silver. A tiny sculpted face in silver. _With a mullet!_

Up above, the green and purple checked midriff shirt was strained by the barely holstered bosom that bulged from the plunging neckline. The face of a pouty super-model was framed by raven tresses, teased and back-combed and sprayed and sculpted into a big-hair, 70's bouffant.

Around her throat was a simple necklace with an a silver, Italian horn that pointed down at her marvelous cleavage.

Her large, piercing eyes were the color of the outer layer of an avocado while her skin was more delicately shaded like the inner fruit near the central seed.

He wanted to take a slow, deep bite.

"Eddie," she cooed in a husky voice.

"Shego-babe!" he rasped, unable to catch his breath.

"Do you want me?" she asked, leaning forward to offer a more generous view of her assets.

"Oh, yeahhhhhhh!" he bellowed, arching his back, shaking his mullet, and playing some power-chords on his "air guitar."

"Well, dude," she told him, "I need something from you, first..."

"Oh, Shego-babe! Name it! Anything! Seriously!"

"I'm going to need for you to build me a car."

Motor Ed Lipsky blinked. "A car? No problemo!"

She nodded. For a moment it looked like she had freckles. They faded from her cheeks almost as quickly as they had appeared.

"Not just any car, brah," she said. "A very special car. I'm going to tell you exactly what I want. You are going to remember everything I tell you in detail." For a moment her green eyes seemed to glow blue. "And you are not going to tell anyone about this project."

Ed drooped a little. "Ah, man! I don't know if I can do that! Seriously!"

Shego toyed with a button on her barely-there top. There were only two.

She sighed and the button popped right off.

It shot past his ear like a high velocity bullet.

"So," she murmured, "you're more afraid of Mastermind than disappointing me?"

The mullet-headed moron (but certified car genius) started to explain that "Mastermind" was no longer the problem but that he didn't want to make "Red" mad at him.

Then he contemplated the dream-enhanced beauty of the only babe worth possessing in his sleep or the waking world...

...and nodded rapidly before wiping a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth.

Who cared if there was something a little off about this Shego's eye color or now-you-see-em-now-you-don't freckles...

Or that her voice sometimes sounded like Red's former boyfriend-what was his name? Barn Stormable? Or Lack Wittable? Little shrimpy dude: probably gay. Never seemed particularly interested in the ladies...always hanging around the crip in the wheelchair...

Shego scowled and lit up her hands. The plasma was a funny color of blues. "Not cool, Dude! I am so..." She shook her head.

And everything moved in such different and interesting directions!

"I mean that Ron's not like that, man!" she continued. "In fact, he's got so many women on a string right now that he doesn't know what to do with them."

Ed nodded. "Like I said: gay. Not that I care: less competition for us straight dudes."

Shego face-palmed. "Why do I even try?"

"Because my Shego-babe needs a car," Ed answered handily. "And not just any car! The Motor Man is going to build you the baddest set of wheels ever! It will be the fastest thing on four wheels! It will fly! It will have lasers! Machine guns! It will be the car that all of the Bond cars and the Batmobiles wish they could produce if they all had an orgy and made a baby!" He frowned again. But I may need some help..."

"I'll be sending you help," Shego assurred him. "Tell me your location and she'll be there before you can even wake up!"

"She?" The big, built man sneered. "I need somebody as strong as me. Stronger! And somone with experience with machines. Like they have motor oil in their veins..."

"Dude," she cut him off. "I promise you that this girl with be even better than you can imagine!"

"Dunno," the gearhead grumbled, "I can imagine near perfection right here and right now!"

Shego laughed.

It wasn't her typical laugh. Again it sounded like someone else...

...someone familiar.

"Oh, Dude, you gotta learn to not judge books by their covers! You think you know me? You have no idea what I'm _really_ like under this skin." Shego cleared her throat and looked down at her impressive cleavage. Her hands came up to squeeze her breasts. "Nice..." she murmured to herself before looking back up at Motor Ed. "Why are you still here? Quit dreaming and get started on my wheels! I'm going to go, now, and...um test-drive the equipment. Booyah!"

Motor Ed Lipsky woke up from his strange dream with a start.

Adrena Lynn was standing at the foot of his bed.

"Woh! Blondie!" he yelped. "Not cool! The Motor Man is strictly a one-woman man and you ain't her!"

"I am here to assist Edward Lipsky in constructing a vehicle for..." she paused as if double-checking her mandate. "...Sheila Gough," she finished after the briefest of hesitations.

"Wait. Shego-babe sent you?"

Again, that slightest of hesitations. "You may say that." Which was not exactly the same as her saying it. "My name is Bebe."

"I thought it was Adrena Lynn, Doll."

"Adrena Lynn-negative," she responded. "Doll: noun. One: a small figure representing a baby or other human being, especially for use as a child's toy. Inapplicable. Two: slang. A pretty but expressionless or unintelligent woman." She cocked her head. "Inconsistent."

"Uh-what?"

"A girl or woman, especially one who is considered attractive. Query: do you find me attractive?"

"Only the green goddess meets the Motor Man's definition of attractive," Ed protested.

Bebe nodded. "When capitalized, an affectionate or familiar term of address, as to a child or romantic partner. Sometimes offensive when used to strangers, casual acquaintances, subordinates, etcetera, especially by a male to a female." She picked up a metal wrench lying on the dresser next to her and proceeded to effortlessly bend it into a horseshoe. "Alternate informal usage: a generous or helpful person."

"That's the one! That's the one!" Ed screamed, standing up in bed with his sheets clutched to his chest. "I'll call you whatever you want!"

Bebe smiled. "Call me...Mistress."

**RSVP**

Justine Flanner was still awake so she wasn't dreaming. But she was still having a bit of a nightmare!

Whatever the Tweebs were doing, it was seriously affecting the power draw to the equipment. Turning to a rack of equipment to kill any non-essential systems, she missed the orange light that flickered from the farthest ring in her tunneling apparatus.

Then all of the lights went off.

She was up and out of her chair before the emergency battery power kicked in. The stacked UPS systems would run the electronics but the force field would be down until the AC power was restored. She ran up the stairs as the orange flickers returned to the destination ring of her Einstein-Rosen bridge.

A moment later a muffled explosion sounded like distant thunder and a slender, freckle-faced blonde in a black leather jacket suddenly appeared, flying through the row of aligned rings and went skidding to a stop against the far wall of the basement.

Disoriented, the new arrival rolled over and tried to figure out what had just happened.

Moments before she had been standing in Ron Stoppable's living room trying to explain to his parents why Liz was dressed up like Kim Possible and she was dressed up like their son…

Then a terrible orange light fill the room! There was a sound like thunder and she was suddenly flying into a long dark tunnel and had no idea, now as to where she was or what had happened.

"H-hello?" she called weakly.

Something stirred in the darkness and she heard a soul-chilling moan.

Scrambling to her feet she was able to make out blinking, multi-colored lights and dim banks of equipment that looked like they belonged in a mad scientist movie.

Whatever was in the room with her moaned again and now she could make out a sheet-draped form that seemed to be rising like a reanimated Frankenstein monster. She turned to run and stumbled against the stairs. She climbed them in record time on her hands and knees.

Justine Flanner was consulting with the Tweebs next to the breaker box at the back of the house and so did not see a panicked and disoriented Jessica Strong go tearing out the front door and into the night.

Down in the basement a groggy Wade Load fell back against his pillow, trying to decide if the odd girl was part of a waking dream or a hallucinogenic by-product of his pain-killers.

Moments later, the power flickered back on and the Possible home was once again shielded by a bubble of opaque and impenetrable force.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: See notes at the end of Chapter 12.<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2: **_**I've been looking forward to this plot reveal for months and I still can't help but feel that I rushed it a little.**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 13<strong>

_Sentinel103 3/22/12 . chapter 13_

Uh Oh, Justine let one get away...crud. Now I think I know what brain girl is doing now...OK I figured it out before but I was distracted by all the almost nudity...hey I'm a guy that's what guys do.

Now where were we? Oh yeah, it looks like Bonnie is gonna be the guest of honor or something you know like she's being inducted into the Upperton region of the Ron Stoppable Fan Club. So like are they gonna carve her heart out like the Aztecs did? And what do we have? Multiple gals dreaming they're with Ron. I could go over each one, but come on somebody else needs to give you some input here. Though needless to say that they seem to be erotic (it's a good thing you just gave us a PG rated sample.)

Now why should I vote for which someone I want to see evil, I've already done Josh and Amy (didn't they make a cute couple).

Anyway have fun, I gotta get to writing. My own chapter isn't gonna write itself.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**Carving out Bonnie Rockwaller's heart might be a real challenge if only for the rampant speculation that it doesn't actually exist. And I agree: the burden of reviewing shouldn't fall on the same people all of the time. C'mon folks, if you want me to continue with timely updates, I need to hear from the lurkers occasionally. R~13**_

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><p><em>Jimmy1201322/12 . chapter 13_

If you were taking votes for dreams, I'd vote for Anne's. Seems to even be "canon-ish". Still, a big red button has been pushed and somewhere a timer is ticking down...

_**The big red button (did anybody catch the "Ren and Stimpy" reference?) was Zorpox injecting his influence into the Ronnish thoughts and dreams that night. But you're right: there is a countdown going on in the background…and we haven't paid a visit to all of the dreams/dreamers, yet. R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 322/12 . chapter 13_

Well, I have to say I didn't see this coming at all, so that makes it a total success in my book. As always, you leave me wanting more, and I can think of no higher compliment I could give as a reader than that.

_**Thanks! I want to keep my readers surprised but I want to play fair so that they can always go back and see that I was setting things up ahead of time—in this case going back to the first story arc… R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 322/12 . chapter 13_

And the hits just keep on coming... Hope the ladies come back to the land of awakening and don't try to jump Ronnie as they did in their dreams.

CB73

_**Oh, I think Ron is gonna get "jumped" soon—but not necessarily in the way you may think… R~13**_

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><p><em>Wolvenstrom 323/12 . chapter 13_

He is in for some major win when they all wake up.

_**Could be. On the other hand… R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 323/12 . chapter 13_

who is jessica strong? and that was the joke in my last review. im unsure about shegos dream i mean do we really want to know how freaky she can be? yes

_**Jessica is one of the two cheerleaders that were in Ron's house when it blew up. She never had an official last name in the series so I named her after "Tara Strong" who voiced a number of characters in the series, including Tara, Brittina, Espadrille, Joss, Penny, Amelia (in her first appearance), and other female background characters as well as some of the cheerleaders. As for Shego's dream—it's a shocker…but you'll have to wait a little longer. R~13**_

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><p><em>Pavelius 323/12 . chapter 13_

I have yet to decide if Bonnies predictment is also a dream or reality...

Anyway... nice variations on the dream theme... i wonder if Shego will get some extended version for her "torture"...

Keep it up

Pavel

_**I've got to admit that it's been a little tricky coming up with differing dreams for the different girls. Poor Shego: she's very complex and quite conflicted. I think her dream offers some interesting insights into her psyche and why she is the way she is…but not in the next chapter. R~13**_

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 727/13 . chapter 13_

I know Zorprox was evil - as in the antithesis of "good", whatever that might be defined as these days - but doing *this* to everyone was a wee bit off the rails. Even for an aspect of someone as fundamentally out of the ordinary as Ron.

That's my only observation. As a reader, I am now gripped and cannot turn away lest I miss whatever is coming next. The author is good at accomplishing that.

**_Weelllll, the whole Ron/Zorpox mashup is a bit complicated. And, as been pointed out, the MMP is basically goosing libidos and feelings that are already there (though maybe buried in some instances). No one is being "chipped" per se. R~13 (8/25/14) I have to modify that last sentence in light of Motor Ed's dream..._**

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><p><em>Some Dude 94/13 . chapter 13 _

So they're all alive? Damn, I don't know whether to be happy they're all still breathing; or sad that Ron might lose Anne back to James.

**_If you're referring to the people who were in the Stoppable house just seconds before it blew up...well...they're not technically "alive" nor technically "dead"...yet. They currently exist in a state of quantum paradox...like Shrödinger's Cat (look it up or Google it). As for Anne and James? The Magic 8-Ball says: "Situation Cloudy. Try again later." R~13_**

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><p><em>Karlos1234ify chapter 13 . 826/14_

Tuesday August 26, 2014.

Nice progression.

_**Thanks! Hope you like the next set! R~13**_

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><p><em>DJ Rodriguezchapter 13 . 826/14_

Not bad! A little strange un some places, but not bad. It seems that most of the women here have some pretty kinky but cool dreams about the man that has captured their hearts and attention. I still wonder what happened to Bonnie, though? In any case, excellent work!

Keep it up!

_**Bonnie's "fate" is coming up...along with her own little...dream... R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 13 . 827/14_

"Some say he's wanted by the CIA and that he sleeps upside down like a Bat. All we know is he's called the Stig."

In reference to the Gilligan's Island dream: While they can be called Daisy Duke's, they are up to 1979 called Short Shorts. With Barbara Bach's appearance on the Dukes of Hazzard (1979-85), they were renamed Daisy Duke's. Right Sheila Gough. Forgot that one.

_**Well, it's a dream by a character from the (near) present so her perspective would by post Dukes, even if the dream was based on reruns of a program her parents watched reruns of when they were young. Nice history lesson, though. Wonder what The Stig would call 'em? R~13**_


	14. Sweat Dreams - Part 3

**Author's Notes: **_**As I expected, there has been some confusion regarding the identity and wherewithal of "Jessica's" sudden appearance in the basement of the Possible home. I would suggest that curious readers revisit "Chapter 26: Ground Zero – Take 1" from RSVP: The Fellowship of the Ron. Aside from the content, the chapter title is a clue in itself. If there is a chapter title that says "Take 1" you can be sure that there will eventually be a "Take 2. Even if it shows up in a later set of chapters in the second or third story-arc!"**_

**_Then "Google" the phrase "_****_Shrödinger's Cat"…_**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ All Kim Possible characters, storylines, elements, derived from the original Kim Possible series & movies are the property of the Disney Corporation. The author derives no material compensation for this legally permissible "parody under law." If you would seek to reimburse me for my time, cross my palm with reviews…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 14 – Sweat Dreams – Part 3<strong>

Jessica went running down the street in a blind panic. _What had just happened?_

_It had late afternoon just minutes ago and suddenly it was late-night dark as if the sun had been down for hours!_

She and Liz had caught the bus from the campus in Upperton down to Ron Stoppable's house in Middleton. They'd walked a couple of blocks to the address and got up on the porch to take a couple of pictures with their cell phones to make it look like Liz was tight with Stopps. _Only to get busted when Ron's parents turned out to be home!_

Mr. Stoppable insisted that they come inside where their embarrassment was doubled by the fact that Mr. and Mrs.—or was that Dr. and Dr.?—Possible were visiting. Kim's mother was just excusing herself to go down the hall and Ron's dad was asking why she—Jessie—was trying to make herself look like his son—*

(*as detailed in Chapter 24 of RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron.)

—when the room turned orange and she felt herself sucked into a long, dark tunnel that spat her out in some nightmare dungeon basement with a moaning corpse and mad scientist equipment!

And now it was suddenly pitch dark outside and as near as she could figure, Ron's house was at least a couple of blocks away.

At least it was warm. It had been cooler earlier in the day so it should have been a little brisker now that the sun was down. _What was up with that?_

_And why did her hair smell as if it were singed?_

She slowed to a walk, now as she turned onto Ron's street. She no longer felt as if she was in any immediate danger and she needed to figure out what she was going to say to his parents and whether Liz was going to be mad at her for ditching her.

And then she stopped.

This was the street but something was wrong. She walked up the sidewalk counting the addresses on each successive house.

This couldn't be right! She continued on to the end of the block and checked the cross street and the numbers on the other side.

Slowly she turned around and walked back with a rising sense of dread.

_The Stoppable house was gone!_

In the space between the houses that stood on either side of the address for Ron's house—was an empty lot.

An empty lot with a small pond and a fountain.

A couple of park benches.

A tree off to the side with a strangely familiar tree house.

And a stone marker by the flag-stoned path that provided stepping stones among the newly planted grass.

Jessica began reading the words that were carved into the marker. She almost finished before she fainted.

**RSVP**

Adrena Lynn (the real one) pressed the button on the intercom. "I'm ready," she told it.

The electronic lock on the door clicked and the light flashed from red to green. Kim Possible's voice emerged from the speaker saying: "Enter."

The blonde, former extreme-stunts star pushed the door open and stepped into the lair's master suite.

Although the new mistress had yet to decorate to her tastes, she had removed all evidence of Mastermind's occupation, leaving the rooms somewhat bare and utilitarian.

There was, however, a curved katana, sheathed in a lacquered wooden scabbard and laying across a carved, stylized stand. Just beyond, through an open doorway, Kim Possible sat at a vanity, brushing her fiery mane in front of a mirror. "I'll be ready in a few moments," she said without turning. "Make yourself at home."

Adrena walked around the sword, studying it from all angles—and then gauging the distance from the table to the redhead's back in the next room. "Nice sword," she said, trying to inject the right level of nonchalance into her voice.

"You like it?" Kim said distractedly. "Oh, that's right. You have one, don't you."

"Had," the blonde corrected. "Confiscated before I was sent to prison." She hesitated. "May I?"

"Knock yourself out," the redhead replied.

Adrena Lynn pulled the blade from its scabbard with a whispered hiss. Taking a few practice swings, she danced around the room and eased into a series of almost forgotten katas. Glancing toward Kim, she again measured the distance in her mind and noticed that she was angled perfectly. Her three-quarters turn put Adrena Lynn in a major blind spot behind her and the mirror was turned so that her reflection wouldn't alert Kim until it was too late.

Then it happened.

Kim set aside the hairbrush and picked up a purple top. She pulled it over her head and stopped.

Some twists and gyrations indicated that she was having trouble getting her head through the opening.

Adrena Lynn's eyes widenened and she slipped around the table until she was standing in the doorway. Raising her sword, she sighted along the blade and turned it sideways and back again, imagining the various thrusts and cuts that would easily cripple or kill the former teen heroine. Taking a slow, deep breath, she raised her left foot off of the floor and began to shift her weight…

…and then slowly lowered her foot and the sword, silently exhaling as her target continued to struggle with her top.

Turning back to place the sword on the rack on the small table, Adrena was shocked to see Kim Possible standing behind her. Slowly, deliberately, she turned her head and looked at the Kim still struggling with her top by the vanity and then back at the Kim wearing a shoulder holster and holding a black handgun down at her side.

"Well," she said quietly as she walked over and slid the blade back into its wooden scabbard. "I guess you really have changed. Not just a gun but a back-shooter, too. Guess Kim Possible really has come over to the dark side."

Armed Kim smiled. "Don't whine. You passed the test and now I don't have to chip you before we go."

"Yeah, lucky me. I guess you were pretty sure."

Kim shook her head as she slid her gun back into her shoulder holster. "Not at all. Not until now."

Adrena scowled. "So, you really were ready to shoot me in the back!"

Kim sighed and whipped the gun back out and pointed it at the blonde's face. "You're wrong. I may think I'm evil, now, but I'm not a coward. I never would have shot you in the back."

"Sure."

"Please believe me. You know how fast I am. The plan was to shoot you in the face if it came to that."

The other woman blanched. Even after her beat-down, she still didn't know what to make of this New Kim. She was as fast and skilled as ever but now she was really scary! Still, it took some real stones to shoot someone in cold blood while looking them in the eye. And shooting someone in the face? It was unimaginable! "I—I don't believe you…"

Kim frowned and her finger tightened on the trigger. "Don't try to call my bluff, Lynn. I promise you that you'll be sorry."

She knew that she was acting stupidly. That she should shut her mouth and just back down.

But it wasn't in her nature.

Besides, she really couldn't believe—

She saw Kim pull the trigger.

Her eyes were suddenly closed so she didn't see the muzzle flash.

She couldn't hear the sound of the report over the roaring in her ears.

But she did feel the terrible wetness as it ran down her face.

Strangely, there was no pain.

Opening her eyes, she touched her face and stared wonderingly at the clear liquid that glistened in her fingers.

"Want some more, bitch?" Kim hissed, pulling the trigger again and again.

Adrena Lynn tried to dodge but Kim was already taking her down to the floor with a leg sweep. There, trapped between the former redhead's feet as she straddled the blonde's prone body, Kim squirted her again and again, yelling: "Take that! And that! And that! Eat H2O you snarky slut!" She stopped and giggled. Then shot several squirts into her own mouth. Reholstering the remarkably realistic squirt pistol, she reached down and offered her foe a hand up. "I don't shoot people in the back. People who shoot other people in the back are people who can't run an effective criminal enterprise. And I'm going to do much, much more than that. I'm going to take over the world!"

Adrena Lynn accepted a couple of proffered tissues and followed her new boss out of her quarters and up, onto the roof.

It really was much more impressive and intimidating to be taken out with a water pistol, she reflected, her respect for the new crime boss going up a couple of more notches.

**RSVP**

As the night wore on, some rather vivid and intense dreams that _continued_ to make the rounds…

_**Britina's Dream**_

Britina was a pop star veteran at the age of twenty-two. Over the course of her already considerable career she had experienced more than her share of creepy fans, stalkers, obsessives, and downright criminal-types who all wanted something from her. She had the money to hire good security so the occasional incident didn't really ruffle her until now.

_This_ stalker was different. He hadn't gone away and he hadn't been caught. Instead, he had managed to hack her phone, her emails, and left evidence that he was actually able to get inside her homes (she had five).

The messages had gotten nastier and more threatening as time went on. The police were powerless, private detectives ineffective, and her bodyguards had quit so frequently that she could hardly keep track of their names as there was a new hire almost every week.

Finally, the threats had reached a level where she had cancelled her next concert and accepted her latest bodyguard's suggestion that they "lay low" in a remote hunting cabin that he owned.

She knew it was a mistake once they arrived and she realized that she was all alone in the middle of nowhere with a man she hardly knew. That night she had barricaded herself in her bedroom and turned on her cell phone. A dozen or so threatening messages were waiting for her—as she suspected—but a different message popped up even as she desperately wondered what she could do.

**Your new bodyguard is your stalker**, the message read. **Don't worry, help is on the way.**

And then the knob began to turn on the bedroom door.

There was no lock so she had taken the precaution of moving the chest of drawers and the few sticks of furniture in the room up against the door. It didn't make much difference: Frank—was that his name?—was a big man and more than strong enough to break down a locked door or move a few pieces of furniture out of the way to get to her.

As the opening door began to push her makeshift barricade back into the room, she rushed over and threw her weight against the flimsy collection of wood and metal.

He began to curse and scream at her, then, telling her what he was going to do to her when he got inside. She trembled all the more as she realized that death would be a pleasant alternative to half of what he was promising.

Then his ranting was punctuated by the sound of thunder: bullets began punching holes in the door and splintering her barricade into so much kindling. One bullet scored a fiery line across the outside of her arm and she fell back onto the floor. As the door began to swing wider, she scrambled under the bed, knowing that she was barely postponing the inevitable. A moment later a big, beefy hand grabbed her ankle and began to pull her back out.

Then a new voice rang out. "Dude! Drop the gun and step away from the pop-star!"

She _knew_ that voice, but who—?

Her ankle was released and the voice spoke again: "Dude, you point that gun at me and I'm gonna make you eat it!"

The gun barked once, then again, though the second shot sounded a bit muffled.

Then the voice said, "You can come out now, B. You're safe."

"W-who are you?" she asked tremulously.

"Ron Stoppable. Remember when you called Kim awhile back to ask her about security? We had our tech guy monitor your phone and computer for unauthorized intrusions. He traced them back to your bodyguard. As soon as we knew I headed out to your location using your phone's GPS as a beacon. I would have been here sooner but you turned your phone off for several hours."

She came out from under the bed now and flew into his arms. Peeking over his shoulder she caught a glimpse of her stalker/bodyguard slumped against the cabin wall with his handgun half protruding from his mouth. The wall behind him was splashed with a montage of red, white, and grey matter. Clearly her savior was serious about the whole gun eating thing.

"Where's Kim?" she finally asked as she began to relax in his warm embrace.

"Ah, she's busy with another…uh…case…"

Britina looked up at her newfound hero. "She's out with another guy, isn't she?"

"More like another girl…"

"So those internet rumors are true?"

"Guess so," he said. "I don't make the rules: this is your dream, you know."

"Well, _you're_ straight, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Guess those other internet rumors? Not so much."

"Looks like I'm gonna need another bodyguard…" she mused. "Can I interest you in a…position?"

"Well…"

"Before you decide, I think you ought to know more…" She took his hand and led him toward one of the other bedrooms.

"More?"

"More about the body I'd want you to guard," she said, using her free hand to unbutton her blouse…

_**Amelia's Dream**_

Amelia finished her strut down the Victoria's Secret catwalk and returned backstage to exchange her dental floss outfit for something a little less substantial. As she changed, she found herself surrounded by a dozen perfect specimens of the Uber-model Genetics Breeding Project.

"Is it true?" the Brazilian beauty asked her?

"Da! You and Ron Stoppable?" the ravishing Russian chimed in.

"He is so dreamy!" the foxy Finn sighed.

Amelia flashed her engagement ring to the admiring ring of international supermodels. A chorus of oooohs and aaaahs ensued.

"When are you retiring?" the Hungarian hottie inquired.

"Si," the Spanish seductress agreed. "If he were mine I would never leave his side for a single minute!"

"Oh, I don't worry about other women," Amelia told them proudly. "Ronnie's totally devoted to me. And he thinks I should have a hobby to keep me busy during all those times he's running around the world saving people and countries and things."

"Ach! Nine!" the gorgeous German exclaimed. "Never mind 'by my side'! If he were mine, I would never let him out of my bed!"

There were murmurs of assent all around and Amelia beamed as her answers to "how big?" and "how many times?" and detailed explanations of specific techniques and comparisons to the Richter Scale had her fellow supermodels gasping and panting and drooling and—best of all—totally envying her.

"How does he feel about threesomes?" the Greek goddess wanted to know.

"Or foursomes?" the sexy Sicilian asked.

"Or orgies?" the rest demanded.

Amelia smiled. That might be a good idea. She knew that her Ronnie had superhuman stamina and was inexhaustible. He'd do the others for her if she asked him to and still be loyal to her. That way she could give them all a little taste, ruin them for ordinary men, and thus become the stuff of legends!

Her dream began to fast-forward to the ultimate test of her fiancé's mystical monkey mojo…

**An Alternates Reality**

In Maggie's dream it was a nuclear holocaust.

Linda dreamed that a plague, a planetary pandemic wiped out the human race.

Ashley's nightmare was of an alien invasion.

W.C. didn't know, didn't care: all that she knew was that-just like the others-only five members of the human race remained alive on earth.

All of their friends, families, everyone that they knew...and, of course, the billions that they didn't, were gone.

Teen hero Kim Possible and the super-powered Team Go...gone. All of their skills and powers couldn't save them.

The Mad Dog cheerleaders of Middleton High along with the rest of them.

But the "Alternates"...the ones no one remembered...were still here!

No longer the "B" Team.

The substitutes were now the only team.

Maggie.

Linda.

Ashley.

W.C.

And, of course, Ron Stoppable.

He would be back, soon. Gas was still plentiful and there were hundreds of vehicles to choose from and hot-wire for trips to the various supermarkets with thousands of canned goods and non-perishable foods.

While he was gone, they had all discussed it.

It was time, they agreed.

It was up to them to repopulate the earth.

To rebuild the human race.

And the old ways of one man, one woman would have to be put aside.

So they swore an oath to one another.

They made a pact.

They would all be sister-wives to each other.

There would be no jealousy: they would learn to share and work to make sure that no one was left out or neglected.

There would be schedules for private times and equality would be maintained...

But there would also be those occasions when they would all share in mutual bonding time-that they might be a unit, a family, and not just separate couples.

Like right now.

The sound of a car in the distance alerted them of his impending return.

They gathered in the bedroom they had prepared for this occasion.

Mattresses from three beds had been arranged together on the floor and made up with a dozen pillows or more. Colored scarves were draped across the windows to filter the sunlight into a sensual illumination of muted rainbows. They had bathed and anointed their bodies with oils and dabs of perfume. And not much else.

Maggie had wrapped a sheet of bleached muslin around her waist, tugged low so that her pale torso was on display down to her curved underbelly. Ropes of pearls hung from her neck, barely covering her naked breasts.

Linda had fashioned a pair of long scarves about her hips that barely covered her sex. Several ropes of dark beads hung from her neck but they fell together in an onyx waterfall between her breasts, making them appear even more prominent than they already were.

Ashley's look was more feral: a brief loincloth and ropes of ivory beads and plaques crossed between her breasts like bandoliers contrasting nicely against her dark skin.

W.C. had been hoarding a stash of edible body paint and she had made use of it for this occasion. She wore nothing but the colors she had applied to her bronzed and burnished flesh. The designs painted upon her body enhanced her curves and opulent flesh in a way to draw his attention to all that she had to offer. And she had been careful to embellish those parts of her flesh where the color and taste of the special ointment might particularly draw the lavish attention of a tongue or the nibbling sensation of teeth on the more needy parts of her body.

Their bodies tensed in anticipation as the sound of the door opening echoed from downstairs. Moisture began to collect in their secret places as the sound of familiar footfalls on the treads of the staircase grew closer.

And then he was standing in the doorway.

"Ladies," he was starting to say, "I found another clothing store so if you'd like to enhance your wardrobes..."

He stopped.

Stared.

Took in the nearly nude quartet of beauties on deliberate display...for him.

He took in a deep breath.

And his pants fell to the floor.

In four different bedrooms between Middleton and Upperton, four young women moaned and churned in their sleep as the mutual dream they all shared...progressed.

W.C., in the buff, on her belly, with her butt in the air, ground against her mattress in a slow, horizontal dance move.

Ashley's hand crept beneath the drawstring waist of her PJs and enhanced the experience that was unfolding in her subconscious mind.

Both of Linda's hands were busy as one grasped her breast, squeezing and kneading the fulsome flesh while the fingers of her other hand stroked and massaged her tummy, circling her navel and tracing runways toward her nether regions.

Maggie was on her back, legs apart, clutching the sheets on either side of her hips as her lower back and buttocks surged upwards. again and again, a fine patina of perspiration covering her pale, freckled skin.

Quiet gasps, soft moans, pantings, and whispered endearments punctuated the silence of the night and lasted until the first light of dawn was met with explosive sighs and the collapse of sweaty limbs caught in a tangle of sheets.

**Monique's Dream**

When Monique had been drafted into going on a few missions with Kim, she had discovered how difficult "world-saving" could be.

After Ron stepped up to take Kim's place, she had found the role of sidekick to be a lot easier. Safer, too!

Ron was so capable at handling villains, freaks, monsters, and natural disasters that her role—being the apprentice distraction—left her with very little to do.

Maybe that was the reason for her inattention this particular day.

She'd asked Ron to let her take the lead and he'd acquiesced, letting her move to the front to hack a path through the jungle with her machete. She should have been less distracted without that boy's fine, fine ass moving hypnotically in front of her. But, somehow, she'd missed the presence of the multicolored snake until it struck upwards and sank its fangs into her leg.

She was proud that she only shrieked a little and did a jittery little dance until Ron caught her arm and told her to stand still.

So great was her faith in him that she was able to do as he bade even with the reptile's fangs still embedded in her upper leg.

A moment later his machete flicked upwards, grazing the inside of her thigh and passing through the razor-thin space between her skin and the creature's mouth so that its fangs were levered back out even as its head went flying in an arc away from her body. As the squirming reptile came back down, he swung the machete again, cutting the reptile in half. He then kicked both parts off into the jungle in opposite directions.

"W-what was that thing?" she asked as he turned back to her.

"Rainbow serpent," he answered, as she took her hands into his left hand and placed his right hand on her upper back. "You need to lie down, Mon."

"I-is it poisonous?" she asked as he eased her down onto a patch of soft vegetation and positioned his pack underneath her head to serve as a pillow.

"Don't worry," he told her reassuringly, "the venom is very slow moving and I should be able to get most of it out right away. Just don't move. And don't worry."

She wasn't worried. She trusted him implicitly and without reserve. He would do whatever needed to be done. He would take care of her: he always had and he always would.

She raised her head a bit and watched as he pulled his combat knife from its heavy leather sheath and sliced her pants leg open. The bite was high up on her inner thigh and he had to cut the material all the way up to her groin to expose the wound. She felt a light breeze and realized that she had dressed "commando" style. Doubtless Ron realized this, too, as he sliced the rest of the material off and made it into a tourniquet. The loop of twisted canvass-like material tightened around her leg, right next to her sex and she could feel an awkward engorgement start to build down there.

The razor-sharp blade gave her very little pain as it flashed across the twin wounds from the serpent's fangs. In any event, all discomfort was immediately forgotten as Ron lay between her legs and pressed his mouth to her wound. She gasped as he began to suck at her flesh, stopping from time to time to spit out blood and venom.

"How you doin', Mon?" he gasped once.

_How was she doing? She felt good. No, great!_ Maybe it was a side-effect of the poison, making her feel all warm and flushed and a little bit hazy. Her blood throbbed around the tourniquet, nestled tightly against her groin. His cheek was pressed against her most intimate place as he sucked on the inside of her upper thigh and she was sure now that his face was being laved with moisture. She imagined his mouth on her breasts, her rock-hard nipples, sucking and pulling like that. Thought about asking him to move his mouth six inches or so to the right…

…and then there was no more time for thinking as the pressure in her lower belly began to grow and a rising tide of sensation swept every thought away except for the explosion that was coming…comING!...COM—

**Bonnie's Dream**

He had fought well in the arena that day. In fact, he had survived six days of gladiatorial contests, the cheers of the slaves, citizens, and nobles blending as one as they chanted: "Ronulus! Ronulus! Ronulus!"

She had purchased him then.

The empress needed such a slave. More importantly, it wouldn't do for any of her rivals or the lesser houses to have such a trophy when she, alone, reserved the best unto herself.

She commanded her household staff bathe and oil and perfume him and listened outside the baths as her handmaids, Taria and Crystia giggled and commented on impressiveness of the warrior's unsheathed "weapon."

Perhaps she had been a little lax with _their_ whippings of late…

When he was brought before her, now clad in an abbreviated toga designed to add to his humiliation and her personal enjoyment, she already had her whip in hand. She ordered the rest of her staff from her chambers and then cast her scornful gaze upon him. "Do you know who I am, Slave?" she asked imperiously.

"Empress Rockwaller," he answered shortly.

"That is correct, Slave; although you will call me mistress from now on."

He stared at her, his eyes smoldering under his blond brows.

"Let me hear you say it, Slave!"

He raised his head a little and it seemed as if he was looking down upon her now—but he still gave no answer.

"Obey me!" she snarled, and lashed him with the whip. The corded leather unfurled and arced over his shoulder, reaching for his back but, ere it touched him, his hand flashed out, striking faster than a cobra, and grasped the leather tongue. This short-circuited its kinetic force before it wrapped around his arm and shoulder. He yanked the whip snapping it in reverse and she found herself pulled from her feet and flying toward him like a fish pulled from the water by a hooked line. By the time she had thought to release her hold he had her crushed against him, the side of her face against the hard shelf of his chest.

He flung the whip away as she sagged in his arm and began to tremble. "How dare you?" she whispered in a tremulous voice. "I am empress and you are my slave…"

He stooped down and caught the backs of her legs with his other arm. "_Out there_," he said harshly as he scooped her up into his arms, "you may be someone that others fear and obey. _In here_," he continued, carrying her across the sumptuous chamber, "you are nothing but a slave. A slave to your desires and your needs." He threw her down upon the bed and flung his toga aside. "_In here_, I am your _master_! Do you understand, _Slave_?"

Her mind reeled. _Out there…in here…_

She stared up at him and then down at the object of Tarias' and Crystia's worshipful obsession. Reaching beneath her pillow, she brought forth a dagger. Ronulus watched impassively as she turned the blade toward her own bosom. Then, with two swift thrusts, she severed the fabric that held up her elegant tunic and tore the covering from her so that she was as naked as a pleasure slave in the House of Rough Trade.

"Yes, Master," she answered meekly as she tossed the dagger aside and lay back upon the cushions. He moved over her and, as he lowered himself, he slapped her face.

Not very hard but the second slap was a little more attention-getting.

As was the third.

Ronulus blurred and refocused, morphing into the face of her sister Connie. "Come on, Bon Bon," Lonnie said, leaning in to place her face next to Connie's. "Wakey, wakey!"

"Wha' happened?" she asked, her mind still fuzzy and bitterly disappointed that her sisters had interrupted a great dream.

"You fainted, Wimpy!"

"Maybe we should slap her again."

Ugh. Bad enough to be dragged out of such a lovely dream waaaay too early. But to be dragged into the nightmare that was her sisters…

And then Bonnie remembered!

_Her abduction!_

_Her sisters in her dorm room just before she was gagged, hooded, and abducted—_

—_to this nightmare dungeon with a hooded coven of devil worshipers with a knife and an altar!_

She almost fainted again!

"Come on, Stinkface! You're embarrassing yourself, here!"

"More importantly, you're embarrassing us!"

"Is she okay?" a vaguely familiar voice asked. A third face swam into view. It was Debbie Dallas, the president of the Pi Iota Epsilon sorority she had been trying to get into.

And Debbie was wearing one of those hooded robes!

"Let's get her up and into a chair," she said kindly.

As Bonnie was lifted up off of the floor she got another look at the "altar."

It was a table. With platters of fruits and cheeses and a barbecued pig on a large tray, a large, wavy-bladed knife stuck in its crispy flank.

"Way to blow your initiation and the pledge ceremony," Connie hissed in her left ear.

"Good thing your boyfriend is a world-saving hottie," Lonnie whispered in her right ear, "or you wouldn't be getting a first chance with our sorority, much less a second!"

Bonnie sighed and closed her eyes. Her first impression of a satanic cult was starting to have more of an appeal.

**RSVP**

Meanwhile, back inside of Ron Stoppable's head…

"Come on, Ron; nobody's getting hurt, here! Everybody's happy! Everybody's getting what they want!" the Other-Ron argued.

"Except for having us all to themselves and exclusively," Zorpox added _sotto voce_.

"Not helping here," Other-Ron warned out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh, well: darn!"

Ron—the "real" Ron—began to swell up in righteous indignation. This was not just a metaphor; he was literally increasing in size. "This is not just wrong! It's even beyond wrong-sick! This is absolutely evil and deplorable and despicable and…and…_evil!_" he yelled. "It's mind control and psycho-sexual slavery—"

"Ooooooh! School words!" Zorpox cooed.

"—and, in every aspect but one," Ron continued, rounding on the chained blue one: "rape!" he hissed, his brown eyes blazing like twin turquoise suns. "It ends here! It ends now! And you're never going to pull this kind of shit again!"

The other-Ron paled visibly and even Zorpox lost two shades of blue, but the latter took a defiant tone and snarked back: "What do you think you can do? It's not like you can actually kill us."

Ron extended his arms and blue energy crackled between his clenched fists. "Who says?" he answered, the frost of a thousand winters icing his words…

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><p><strong><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: See notes at the end of Chapter 12.<strong>**

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><p><strong>AN 2: **_**Sorry, at least one more chapter before the alarm clocks go off. I'm shortening the dream sequences as best I can and still give the characters their due…**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 14<strong>

_Sentinel103 3/26/12 . chapter 14_

So Jessica sorta figured out what happened huh?

Hey I don't think I wanted Bonnie's heart it'd take to long to find it anyway I mean this tale is only what 580 chapters?

_**Cough...pot...cough...kettle...(grin)**_

OK lots of dreams here I can't talk about them all...well I can but there are others who need to give some input...anyway I think Zelda (you know Drewbie's mommie needs to have her heart cut out...we both know she's alive and hiding.

_**Sigh...**_

OK OK anyway Kim and Andrena are coming to an understanding aren't they.

_**Oh, yes...**_

And Ole Ronnie boy is starting is assert himself...I wonder if Ron can be as bad as Zorpox and smarter...I guess we'll just have to see.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

**_A lot going on. "In" the dream world. And "out there." R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 326/12 . chapter 14_

And the 'hits' just a keep on a comin'... Until Ron seems to have a way to end this and Zorpox's influence. Maybe?

The girls are really having some pretty vivid dreams of what they want and what they'll do (in their dreams) to get him.

Kim, on the other hand, seems to have a slight ally for now, but still she's no one's fool. And can Drakken really never catch on that no matter what he's got planned, it always gets away from him?

Now to see where this goes. And nice touch with the signature phrase with Bonnie, of all people!

Oy. Kim's gonna get you for that, Dark or Not... LOL!

CB73

**_Drakken's finding out that Dark Kim IS all that! And much, much more! R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 327/12 . chapter 14_

well what can i say ...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...,...

**_I'll bite…what? R~13_**

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><p><em>Batamut 327/12 . chapter 14_

I have to disagree with Ron here as it was the Girls who controlled the Dream, picked the dream and choose the character's. All those two did was amp the juice which isn't evil, not good either (I dislike these words for this as Good and Evil is subjective and relative)

_**Very insightful: that's exactly what's going on. And is Zorpox Ron or Not-Ron? What about the other Ron personality elements? How much does the MMP influence the thoughts and feelings of those around him? I'll posit that Zorpox and his buddy are doing some nudging but the girls are taking the ball and running with it in their own fashions.**_

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><p><em>zafnak 728/13 . chapter 14_

Ahem. Debbie Dallas? Really? Heh. I like those old movies, too :-)

**_Caught that did you? I've put lots of inside jokes or easter eggs in this series and most seem to slip by my readers. Congrats! Did you notice the name of the sorority? R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox<em> 7/28/13 . chapter 14

Yeah 'tis me. Am surprised that allowed me to get away without signing my name, but then again with all the changes that have been going on, it shouldn't be surprising. True, but I was guessing as to Shego's colors. I wonder if she's related to Elphaba Thropp?

At the time it was a policy to cancel a show after three seasons. Now I'm not sure what the policy is. That was a crack on Eminem's "Slim Shady". Also I seem to recall someone writing a Kim Possible fic where Ron is one of the characters from the Matrix; creates duplicates of himself and starts singing a parody of "Slim Shady". Good to know that there are more villains still around, but am still upset that Camille is deceased. As for credit: Queen gets most of the credit, but royalties I think goes to the living members of Queen and Freddie Mercury's estate.

"I'm slow Jug, but you're even slower." Nein not nine. If Ron were in his right mind, would he blow a fuse, get a nosebleed or faint?

**_I'm sure that Kim would agree with Elphaba being in the family tree. R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 730/13 . chapter 14_

My second favorite scene in the series thus far: the squirt gun takedown!

**_I had fun writing it. And it helps make the point that no one quite knows what's really going on in Dark Kim's head or what the endgame really is._**

**_So what is your "first" favorite scene? R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 94/13 . chapter 14 _

Don't tell me Zorpox actually dies! I may not like the prick... but he's fun as hell to have around!

**_Fun for who? And, hey, if you haven't figured out by now: nothing in this story is ever as simple as it might seem at first. Although Mama Lipsky really is dead-no matter what Sentinel103 would have you think... R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 14 . 114/14_

Holy frack i wanna see the full bon bon dream and cant wait for shego dream

_**Sorry, LH: You'll get a little more Bon Bon action later but this is all you get for now. And I can guarantee you right now that, whatever you're expecting from Shego's subconscious, you're going to be waaaaay off. Hope you like it anyway. R~13**_

_DJ Rodriguez chapter 14 . 8/27/14_

I read the first series of this, then started on this one before going back and reading the first one because it was good the first time. I got to admit, these dreams that the girls are having about Ron is quite interesting. And Bonnie getting was getting iniatated into a sorority of sort? That would explain it... original too, in some ways.

Kim Possible is now more dangerous and formidable then any other villain now that her moral restraints are gone. Ron and the others need to bring their A-plus games in order to be on level with her!

All in all, this was excellent! Keep it up!

_**Yeah, Kim is pretty scary right now (just ask Drakken) but she hasn't seriously hurt anyone, yet. I like to think that Kim is still a "moral" person whose "compass" has been readjusted to point South instead of North. Don't get me wrong: she is a formidable adversary, but most people going through her "treatment" would be far more awful! Still, Dark Kim has had her already formidable "Kimness" amplified and will far more of a challenge for Ron and Company than Mastermind. R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 14 . 828/14_

"Some say he is illegal in 17 US states, and he blinks this way [sideways]. All we know is he's called the Stig."

Okay, here's where I got the names for the other characters. At the time I didn't realize that some of the girls already had names. You made the comment that I about me not really randomly selecting the various last names, I can assure you that some of them were actually selected without thinking, okay should this person be named after. Hope and Yori's last names are from Tomoyuki Tanaka and Eiji Tsuburaya. Both worked on many of the Godzilla films, Tanaka was the producer while Tsuburaya was the director. Marcella was named after musician and actor Trini Lopez.

Monique and Linda were named after members of the Chambers Brothers. Jessica was named after the Allman Brothers Band. Band member Dickey Betts wrote the song Jessica, which is named after his daughter. Adrena Lynn is named after Prime Minister Rene Viviani and Chef Fabio Viviani. Shego was named after Dennis Tufano lead singer of the Buckinghams, who had the hit Susan. As for Heather, Ashley and Wendy: they are the last names of Captain Slow, Hamster and Jezza aka the Three Stooges of BBC's Top Gear.

_**Interesting! And (somewhat) logical. I already had some character names in place from the last time around but you and Old Soldier have provided me with material for the others. We shall see who gets what soon... R~13**_


	15. Sweat Dreams - Part 4

**Authors/Notes: ****_I'm now rushing to get more posted before I head to Colorado for a week's vacation. Maybe I'll check out Middleton while I'm there..._**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ The author makes no claims to the source materials, characters, plots, concepts, or any other aspects of the Kim Possible franchise-ditto the Elton John song, "Don't Go Breakin' My Heart." Just hangin' out on the MMB (Mystical Monkey Bars), having fun…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 15– Sweat Dreams – Part 4<strong>

_**Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?**_

While it was true that Bebe, Cece, and Dede were three distinct A.I.s and were no longer facets of a greater hive mind, they were still able to interface wirelessly. In fact, they did so quite frequently to share large amounts of information.

While there were occasions when information sharing was required by specific circumstance, there was a general consensus that mutual updates and downloads would take place every day at midnight just to keep current.

As midnight was generally a low traffic/minimal task period in the 24 hour cycle—and the three-way data transfers generally took 0.12 seconds—this information sharing had gone off without a hitch since their rebirth over in Japan.

Until tonight.

For some reason, Dede was declining the interface, citing high processor usage and complex data mining tasks.

Alarmed, her sister bots attempted to run diagnostic scans.

While it was true that Dede's CPU clock was running at hyperdrive speeds and that she was, indeed, running a veritable spiderweb of tunnels through the datasphere, she was unaccountably blocking their access as to just what terabytes of information she was processing and when her project or projects might be completed.

Intrigued, they decided to hack her system.

It would prove to be a fateful decision for five A.I.s , four robotics scientists, three star-crossed lovers, two international organizations, and one truly mad geneticist in the days to come.

_**Marcella's Dream**_

In her dream Marcella was back in the audience at the Middleton High Talent Show.

Bonnie had dragged her there with the rest of the cheerleading squad—minus Kim, of course—to support their co-captain in her quest for first prize. The whole week leading up to this night had been filled with Bonnie's boasts of how she was going to crush Kim and "dance" away with the trophy.

Of course that didn't happen. Despite all of the trash talk about the redhead's inability to hit the high notes.

Marcella had sat through most of the acts, slumped in her chair, wishing that she had found the courage to enter the talent contest, herself.

She could sing.

Everyone who had ever heard her told her that she had an amazing voice! A gift! A real talent!

Everyone who had ever _heard_ her.

Which, unfortunately, was a very small number of people at that point.

Her talent, her gift, was a well-kept secret thanks to one other, well-kept secret.

She was shy.

Everyone who thought that they knew her in school would have scoffed. Marcella? Shy? She was a cheerleader for gosh sakes! If Bonnie hadn't been the number one "mouth" on the squad, Marcella would have been voted top honors.

No one knew that it was a front. That she constructed this brash persona to hold other people at arm's length. To appear tough when she was actually very tender.

So, very few people were aware of her so-called gift, her presumed talent.

She hid her voice in the school and church choirs. Even as a cheerleader: she hid in the group.

And, because she was timid girl pretending to be fearless, she had no confidence in the absence of others' support.

Hope was the only one who really knew her. Hope was the only one who knew how shy she really was. But Hope—there was a pun here if you really thought about it—wasn't enough.

Her friend had urged her to enter and even promised to accompany her on the piano. But no one else had heard her sing, yet, and Bonnie would have taken her entry in the competition as an act of disloyalty.

Then, suddenly, late into the program, her whole life changed!

Ron Stoppable came out onto the stage and began to stall for the tardy Ms. Possible.

That shouldn't have been surprising: everyone knew that the blond boy always had Kim's back.

Speculation was becoming rampant as to what other parts of her he had, as well…

This, however, was an act of courage beyond anything she had seen at Camp Wannaweep or read on the internet mission blogs back then!

He didn't _have_ to go out there—especially unprepared—just to give his friend her shot at a competition—an act that she had only committed to just to tweak Bonnie.

But he was willing to put himself out there for her anyway!

And he didn't _care_ about embarrassing himself!

He didn't _care_ about what others thought!

He was _true_ to himself!

He was _true_ to his friends!

And his willingness to put himself out there and live the extreme life actually won him first prize in the talent show—something that he had no actual interest in winning to begin with!

Several things had happened that night.

She had decided to pursue her muse and not be afraid to take her love of music and her voice public.

Hope seemed transformed that same night and they had teamed up to find success in the local entertainment scene.

She had also begun to look at Ron Stoppable with new eyes. A pity she had waited too long to make her move. His inevitable hookup with Kim at the end of their junior year had left her with nothing but a few wistful fantasies.

Still, this night was a pleasant memory that she always enjoyed revisiting in her dreams.

Except that…

…_this dream was suddenly different!_

Ron Stoppable was standing at the edge of the stage and calling her name!

In a daze, Marcella stood and walked up the aisle to the stairs that led up to proscenium arch.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ron announced into the microphone, "for my next part of my act I'll be joined by the lovely Marcella Bellocchio. Bellocchio means 'beautiful eyes' in Italian…"

She almost stumbled on the steps when he said this.

"…but she might as well have been named Marcella Bello-Cantare as you'll see when she starts to sing!"

_What was going on?_ She never knew that Ron knew any Italian—he had enough problems with what he referred to as "school words," for gosh sakes! But there was no more time to contemplate this sudden turn of events as a microphone was shoved into her hands and Ron's little pink pet cranked up a familiar tune on the boom-box.

Ron began singing an old Elton John lyric: "Don't go breakin' my heart…" as he looked at her and nodded.

She might have missed her cue—if this was anything but a dream—but she sang back: "I couldn't if I tried."

"Oh, Honey, if I get restless…" he continued.

"Baby you're not the kind," she rejoined—and then sang along with him: "Ooh...Nobody knows it (Nobody knows it)" before taking the lead: "Right from the start…"

"I gave you my heart," Ron answered tunefully.

And they were off, rocking the duet as if they had practiced it a hundred times.

As she sang, she was hyper-aware of the subtext of the lyrics, of the public display of not only her talent but the emotional bond that the song seemed to weave between them. She felt like a flower opening up to the light and warmth of the sun. She caught his free hand in hers as they swayed, then half-embraced, and finally danced to the big finale.

"Don't...don't don't don't go breakin' my—(I won't go breakin'!) Don't go breakin' my heart…"

The audience was on its feet, now, cheering and clapping and stomping, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to lean in, look up, and press her lips to those of the perfect partner in every way…

_**Hope's Dream**_

The post-graduation pool party was well under way as Hope emerged from the bath house in Bonnie's back yard. Her itsy-bitsy, teeny-weenie, white with gold trim bikini contrasted nicely with her olive complexion but Bonnie was already darker than she was and Marcella had challenged her to a tan-off this summer. This first, "official" day of summer vacation was like the starter pistol for grabbing some rays.

She made her way over to one of the lounge chairs next to the pool and spread her towel over the one next to her bestie. She sat and rummaged through her tote-bag before giving up with a whispered oath.

"What's the matter?" Marcella asked, her voice muffled by the sun hat she had pulled over her face.

"I can't find my baby oil," Hope muttered. "I think I forgot to pack it."

"All these cheerleaders, all these swimsuits? Someone's bound to have some sun block."

"I don't want sun block. I want to accelerate my tan, not slow it down."

Marcella nodded sympathetically. While she and Hope had the genetics to handle more exposure to the ultraviolet spectrum, the others—especially Kim—needed more protection. Bonnie? No one was sure whether Bonnie was blessed in the genetics department or merely had a deal with the Devil.

Most were inclined toward the "deal" theory.

"Maybe Bonnie has some baby oil. Or mineral oil…"

Marcella snorted. "Maybe. But she won't admit it. She'll want to hold on to her head start in the tanning sweepstakes."

Hope sighed. Her best friend was right. Then she smacked herself in the forehead. "Am I stupid or what?"

"What?" Marcella echoed.

"Salad oil! Or better yet, olive oil!" She jumped up and hurried over to the food carts that were arranged in the shade over by the back porch.

There was a cart with a several different loaves of bread and a variety of meats and cheeses as well as spreads and sandwich fixings. Another cart had a selection of finger foods and delicacies. A third had been stocked by Ron Stoppable, himself, and made the selection at Bueno Nacho look paltry by comparison. A fourth had hot dogs, hamburgers, and an array of barbeque concoctions. Hope looked at all of the food choices longingly before moving to the fifth cart that held everything you might want in a salad bar.

Hope liked to eat. And, while the extra calories had never been a problem during the school year, summers away from the demands of cheerleading had taught her that she'd either have to step it up down at the dojo or cut back on her intake until Kim and Bonnie had her sweating off the pounds with the return of the fall football season.

Of course, there wouldn't be a fall football season for Hope at the end of this summer. At least not as a cheerleader. College loomed and she would be too busy at the Upperton School of Culinary Arts while taking night classes in music theory and composition. In-between, she'd have to earn money helping out at her uncle's dojo and picking up the occasional music gig on the side now that Feudor's was closing.

She picked up a bottle of extra-virgin olive oil from the cart and poured a little into the palm of her right hand. Rubbing it over her left arm she smiled as her skin began glisten. "This will work," she said.

"Oh, yeah," a voice said from behind her, "you couldn't have picked anything better."

She turned and saw Ron Stoppable a few feet away, helping himself to the Tex-Mex cart.

"Really?" She wasn't sure if he was being serious but then she'd never heard the Mad Dog mascot snark unless Bonnie was immersed in one of her nastier rants.

"Oh sure," he replied, waving a tortilla for emphasis. "First of all, it's a great moisturizer—it contains linoleic acid, a compound not made by the body, but which prevents water from evaporating. It also contains at least four different antioxidants, which can help neutralize damaging free radicals that can lead to skin aging and skin cancer."

"Really?" Hope took a step closer.

"Yeah. I read that there was this study where they had mice drink extra virgin olive oil and that they developed less skin cancer after being exposed to UV light." He put the tortilla down and began buttering it with refried beans like a peanut butter sandwich. "If you mix it with beeswax in a one to one ratio, it makes a great lip balm!"

Now Hope's smile became dangerously Rockwaller-like as she walked up to the blond mascot. "Really!"

Ron suddenly looked abashed. "Uh, I think I read that somewhere…don't remember…heh…"

"Maybe some fashion magazine for girls?" She grinned at his sudden discomfort.

"I think it was for metrosexuals," he said weakly. "But, hey, the Ron-man is all about the food ish."

She remembered then that he had exhibited mad cooking skills that one week when the school cafeteria was put under his management. Come to think of it, that was when her own interest in cooking and food preparation had taken off. She switched hands to rub more oil on her right arm but the bottle began to slide through her fingers thanks to the residual oil on her right hand. "Ron would you help me?" she asked, extending the slippery bottle toward him.

"Sure thing." He slipped his concoction under one of the plastic domes that kept the food fresh and bug free. Then, taking the bottle from her he asked: "The other arm?"

"Please. And then my back."

"Hokay."

As he slathered the oil on her right arm another voice called from the outdoor grill. "Ro-on, what do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, hey, KP," he answered distractedly. "The Hope-ster just needed some help greasing up her bodacious bod…" Self-awareness kicked in just a few seconds too late. "Oh shit," he said in a tiny voice that only the Eurasian girl could hear.

"Don't worry, Ron," she murmured to him as his redheaded girlfriend began to storm their way. "You're not doing anything wrong. Just helping a friend. If you stop or back down now, you'll only look guilty."

"Too late," he moaned as he caught sight of his BF/GF's face.

"No it isn't. Just pretend I'm Kim and Kim is Bonnie so ignore the snark and let me run interference for you." Hope smiled at her cheermate as she approached. "Hey, Kim! Thanks for letting Ron help a friend out, here. My hands were so slippery I couldn't hold onto the bottle."

Kim's face suddenly looked a little sunburned. "Slippery, huh?"

"Yeah, KP, there's an oily residue on the bottle, here. No wonder she couldn't—" He stopped talking as soon as he saw the look on her face.

"Anyway," the almond-eyed cheerleader continued, "Ron is such a gentleman, I just asked for his help without thinking of asking your permission. You don't mind, do you? I know you like totally trust him…" She tried not to smirk as she saw the look on Kim's face that said: _him I trust, you maybe not so much…_

"Sure, sure," Kim muttered reluctantly.

"I mean it's not like anything inappropriate would happen right out here in front of everybody," Hope continued softly so that none of the other cheerleaders could hear. "So is it okay if Ron has permission to do my back?" she asked a little louder so that the rest could hear. "Unless that bothers you, of course."

Kim had been focused on a couple of things. The vast amount of Hope's dark curves on display in her minimalist bikini. Her boyfriend's hands rubbing some of that lovely skin and making it glisten.

And now she added a third item to her red-tinged awareness: everyone's attention was on her to see how she'd react. "Well…that is…sure…"

"Thanks Kim!" she said brightly. Behind the redhead, Hope could see Marcella staring from her lounge chair in open-mouthed amazement. Behind her she could hear a soft snicker that sounded very much like Bonnie.

Kim frowned for a moment and then reset her face into a "who cares" expression. Turning on her heel, she walked away with only a hint of her inner annoyance.

Hope glanced over her shoulder at an open mouthed Ron Stoppable. "My back?"

The blond shook his head. "Oh man, I am so gonna get punished for that later!" Then he grinned. "But soooo worth it! Oh man, H! That was badical!" He poured some more of the thick, greenish-yellow oil into his hand. "I thought only Bonnie—"

"Only Bonnie what?" the subject's voice growled behind him.

He whirled around to discover that Kim's social nemesis was right behind him. So close, in fact, that his hand smeared a wide stroke of oil across her midriff.

"Stoppable," she gasped. She looked down at the shiny streak on her tanned tummy. "That's gonna ruin my tan!" she bellowed, glancing sideways at the retreating redhead who had slowed to a stop. As Kim turned back to see what everyone else was still focused on, Bonnie smiled maliciously. "You'd better fix it!" she snarled.

Ron looked puzzled. "Fix it?" he echoed.

Bonnie took a step and now their noses were touching. "My tan has to be even," she growled. "That means that the oil on my skin has to be applied evenly—not just wiped here and…" she licked her lips suggestively, "…there."

Ron's mouth was hanging open again. "I'm a…I'm a…" He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Hope looking at him expectantly, tapping her foot. "Er…uh…" Then he caught sight of Kim headed back in his direction. "Oh…shit…" he said again in his "tiny" voice.

"Give me that!" she seethed, grabbing his hand holding the bottle of olive oil. She tried to jerk it out of his grasp but only succeeded in squeezing it and causing it to swing back and forth, dousing both Hope and Bonnie with a liberal dose of greenish goodness.

"What the hell?" roared Bonnie as the oil ran down her chest and into her swimsuit top.

"Sorry, Bonnie," Kim said, sounding anything but.

"Yeah, it was an accident," Ron added, holding up the bottle. "See here? It says 'extra-virgin'—"

Bonnie's eyes widened and she grabbed a bottle of mustard from a nearby cart. She squeezed it hard enough to shoot a thick, yellow stream of the pungent condiment but Ron had already ducked and the majority hit Hope, riding the oil down her front.

"Rockwaller...!" the Eurasian girl roared and grabbed a jar of baby gherkins, dousing the queen of mean with its briny contents.

"Wow, Bon Bon," Ron exclaimed, "I've seen you get hammered but I've never seen you get pickled!"

"It's no big," Kim told him, "the rumor is she's very experienced in the 'pickle' department. And they're generally no larger than those."

There was a collective gasp.

"Oh, what?" Kim challenged, looking around, "I heard the rumor from at least half of you—" A black line of soy sauce splashed across her face.

As usual, Hope ended up with more on her.

Now it devolved into a full-on food fight with others joining in until it looked like a bomb had gone off in the produce section of the local Smarty Mart.

Strangely, Ron Stoppable was the only one to emerge from the carnage unscathed.

Perhaps it was his ninja training. Or his mystical monkey power. Or his experience in dodging Shego's plasma blasts. Or maybe it was his ability to go unnoticed by anybody other than Steve Barkin that allowed him to escape the kill zone.

As he waited around the corner of the house for hostilities to subside, a walking pile of food wandered past him in search of the garden hose.

"H-hope?" he queried, peering at the parts of her face that weren't covered in vegetables and cheeses and minced meats and spicy sauces.

"Hi Ron," she said with a sigh.

"You look…you look…"

Her head dropped. "I know: hideous."

"Delicious!" he said with a grin.

Her head came back up. "Huh?"

He took her hands and pulled her this way and that as he looked her over. "I mean, really yummy!" He reached into her hair and pulled out a cracker. "Do you mind?"

She shook her head slowly.

He ran the cracker along her arm, scooping up a saucy mix of guacamole, black olives, and something crunchy. Hope felt a trail of goosebumps erupt in its wake. Taking a bite, he smiled. "Mmmm…delish!

She reached into her hair and pulled out another cracker. "Try my thigh," she suggested.

Ron dropped to his knees and scooped a cornucopia of treats from her upper leg and she felt a shiver of delight as he munched on the result, licking his fingers as he finished. "Oh, man, H! I need to get this recipe! This could be bigger than the Naco!"

"How can I help?" she asked feeling a rising excitement as he knelt before her.

"Well, I just need time to figure out the mix of ingredients. Some of it is obvious just by looking but some of it isn't until you taste it. And then there's the problem that the ingredients aren't uniformly distributed. Your arm tastes different than your leg, for example…"

"Taste my tummy," Hope demanded impulsively.

Ron reached up. "Hand me a cracker."

"I'm all out."

"Oh. Well."

"Lick it," she suggested.

"I could go around the corner and see if there's any crackers left. Or chips…"

"Lick it!" she commanded.

After a moment's hesitation, he gingerly extended his tongue. It gently lapped at a spot just above her next-to-nothing bikini bottoms and then slid upwards into the sauce-cup of her navel. They both gasped: he from the incredible juxtaposition of tastes and textures, she from the sensations of his mouth and tongue on her sensitive flesh.

Eventually the other cheerleaders were too exhausted to throw another handful of food. Calling a truce they staggered, en masse, around the corner of the house in search of the garden hose.

The sight of two, moaning, intertwined bodies—both now smeared with food and seemingly trying to devour each other—shocked them into paralyzed silence.

But only for a moment.

Then a choir of female voices cried: "Ro-on!"

And one voice bellowed: "Stoppable!"

It sounded suspiciously like Kim.

_**Elizabeth's Dream**_

Their Global Justice transport had crash landed on the deserted tropical island over a month ago. Only two of the flight crew had survived. It had been two weeks since they had spotted the last search and rescue flight far to the north.

Given those circumstances, she might be entitled to feel that her luck had run out.

But, for the first time that she could remember, she was actually happy.

Neither of them was injured and, in fact, were disgustingly healthy. As she stretched out on the white sands near the water's edge she was pleased to note that her tan lines had completely disappeared: she was a deep golden brown all over. Ever since they had discovered the perfect mix of coconut oil and berry juice, they had discarded their clothing and turned their tropical paradise into a second Garden of Eden.

Hearing some splashing, Betty Director sat up and watched as Ron Stoppable emerged from the ocean carrying a long bamboo pole with a knife lashed to one end. He wore a string of fish draped over one shoulder and nothing else.

At the sight of him she felt her nipples engorge and harden. She saw a similar but more pronounced physical response from him as he took in her lush form.

She got up and slowly walked back toward their camp: after their last tryst on the beach, they'd both sworn never again to do the sorts of things that invited sand into unwelcome places.

She could hear him quickening his pace behind her and felt her own excitement grow as she contemplated hours of intense love-making followed by a lazy afternoon in the shade of the palm fronds.

Thank god she had had the presence of mind to turn _off_ their location beacon right after the crash…

_**Crystal's Dream**_

Crystal dreamed of life in a palace of colorfully tiled mosaics and bubbling fountains where she competed with the other concubines in the harem—who looked suspiciously like Bonnie, Marcella, Hope, Liz, Jessica, Tara, and Kim—for the favor of the young, handsome sultan—who looked suspiciously like Ron Stoppable.

Though the others would dress provocatively and shimmy and shake to the music, only she knew how to move her belly for her turbaned master. She knew the secrets of how to enflame a man's sensibilities through the artful combinations of a thrust bosom, a cocked hip, and the undulations that pulsed across her oiled abdominals from sternum to mons as she knelt at his feet and arched backwards in a wanton offering that cried _Take Me!_

And take her he did, right there on the perfumed cushions, whispering words of passion and promising to elevate her to the cherished position of first wife…

_**Night of the Living Dead**_

Zita and Electronique did not so much dream as they continued in their virtual adventures.

Each with their own masterful yet attentive Ron Stoppable to bring them through an unforgettable night…

_**Cherry Blossom Dreams**_

Kyoko dreamt dreams that were not _her_ dreams.

Dreams that were more like memories of a life she had not lived...

And, yet, had...

Of love high in the summer meadows of snow-capped mountains.

Of peace and contentment as love became life, quickening deep in her sacred chamber.

Of cherry blossoms and the growing sense that eternity wouldn't be enough...

...but that a few short months of happiness might be more than one could ever hope for in a world gone grey with lesser passions.

_**A Warm, Winter Dream**_

She stared down at tombstone, half buried in the drift of snow.

Even though sunrise was more than two hours away there was plenty of light. The crisp December air gave an uncommon clarity to the blaze of stars and winter constellations and the full moon shone as bright as a searchlight on the wall of a super-villain's lair.

All that light was reflected by the silvery white fields of snow that stretched in every direction for miles.

Although the dates were covered by a frozen white wavelet, the words above were readily visible:

**_Kimberly Ann Possible_**

**_She Saved the World…A Lot_**

She wondered which she felt more at the moment. Grief? Or gratitude?

_Gratitude. _

_She always felt gratitude._

But the grief would rise up in her from time to time and then she would have to come out here for another quiet visit.

The grief…and the guilt.

Because she knew what no one else suspected. After four years of trying and then another three-year truce, she had finally killed Kim Possible.

"Sorry, Kimmie," she whispered. And then shivered as the wind kicked up and blew her hair across her face.

She turned to go, weaving through the shallower troughs of the drifting snow.

She stamped her feet on the back steps and then eased through the door into the mud room where she slipped out of her boots, snow pants and parka. Wearing only her pajamas now, she endured the cold for an extra few seconds until she was able to slip into the warm kitchen.

She set the coffeemaker for six a.m. and then padded through the dining room, down the hall and up the stairs, carefully avoiding the two treads that always squeaked.

She took a moment to slip into Hana's room and rearrange the blankets so that the six-year-old was adequately covered against the early morning chill.

Then she eased into the master bedroom and took a log from the wood box. Last night's fire had burned down to ashes and the half-dozen embers that still winked beneath the grate were worthless. She eased the log onto the grate and then pressed her palm against the cold bark. A green glow leaked between her fingers and the wood began to grow warm. A few moments of smoke and she removed her hand as the log caught and began to burn. Two more logs joined it before she straightened, pressing her left hand to her aching back and cupping her rounded belly with her right.

She shuffled to the king-sized bed and crawled back under the covers on her side.

The wind strengthened outside and began to howl around the eaves. Tendrils for frost finger-painted on the window panes in fractals silvered by the setting moon.

She sighed as the warmth began to creep back into her bones.

She sighed as she thought about her life…and the life that had ended because of her.

Kim Possible knew the risks, they'd all said. It was a miracle that she'd beaten the odds all through her teenage years.

But Sheila knew the truth. Kim Possible had always beaten the odds—would have always beaten the odds—as long as her partner had her back.

But the day that Kim Possible died, her partner was half a world away in a Colorado hospital.

She had put him there.

So the redheaded hero had gone solo and that was when the odds caught up with her.

If Ron had been with Kim, she would be alive today.

"You don't know that," he'd told her.

But she did know.

And because he was at the hospital instead of with her, Sheila had caused Kim's death just as surely as if she had murdered her, herself.

Because of her, Ron was in the neonatal unit holding their first born while Kim was dying a half a world away.

"You might as well blame Annie," he'd told her.

She turned and gazed at the tousled blonde hair tucked under her daddy's chin next to her.

Yes, Ron was holding her hand in the delivery room when Kim had chosen to respond to distress call without backup. And he was holding their newborn daughter when the rising flood waters had swept a bus full of children into a raging torrent—an awful event among many that day, ultimately proving that anything was possible for a Possible—even death.

But even though fate decreed that they would always celebrate their daughter's birthday on the anniversary of Kim's death, she knew that Annie was truly innocent.

She looked up from her daughter's head to see her husband's eyes open and gazing at her with undisguised love. He smiled and mouthed: _Good morning! _

He reached across and laid a gentle hand on her swollen belly.

At that moment little J.T. kicked, letting them know that they weren't the only ones who were awake.

I love you, he mouthed.

I love you more, she answered.

And thought: I love you so much that I would do anything to protect you. And them. And all of this. I would kill.

And there it was.

Even though she had not wished Kim harm.

Even though it was a cruel twist of fate that the flood had come while she was in labor.

Even though Kim had made the choice to go without backup despite all of the worldwide rescue agencies available.

She knew that it was the sea change in Ron's loyalties, his love for her…the wedding…the growing life in her once-barren womb—that had precipitated the events and choices that led to Kim's death.

And the guilt from knowing that—were there any chance of a choice, a fantastical cosmic do-over—she wouldn't change any of what had happened: Ron's love, the baby, _any of it!_

She knew that she didn't deserve that deep and abiding love, the soul-searing happiness that she had finally found. But, now that it was hers, she would fiercely cling to it whatever the costs—past, present or future...

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: See notes at the end of Chapter 12.<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2: The first section of this chapter is subtitled "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep," the title of the Philip K. Dick novel that was turned into the 1982 film "Blade Runner." I hope I don't have to explain the connection in my story...**

**Kim's tombstone in Shego's dream is a complete steal from Buffy's headstone from Buffy The Vampire Slayer. I'm surprised nobody called me on it.**

**_**Thanks to masterbow, CajunBear73, Sentinel103, and A very odd fellow for reviews and feedback-as well as Batamut for PMing to see if I was still alive (not an automatic assumption given the events of the past few months). We will see which dreams were significant as time goes on and which...well, as Freud once said, "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar..."**_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 15<strong>

_masterbow 3/31/12 . chapter 15_

hope and marcelas dreams were fun but you blow me away with shego's it was so not what i was expexting

**_Shego is more mature than the other girls (excepting maybe Vivian & Betty—Anne doesn't count while she's channeling Kim) and, given her history, abilities, and unique curse, Ron is a rare match for her. R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 331/12 . chapter 15_

Quite the menagerie of dreams here that reflect their interests in Ron.

Some funny, some inspiration, some tragic.

CB73

**_Tragic, indeed… R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 331/12 . chapter 15_

A lot of ways to play Kim and Ron in this one huh. Hope and Bonnie with a jellin' KP. A dead Kim too. Now I have to wonder just how much mental damage is being done to these females in their gushing over the blond sidekick.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

**_Hmmmm…maybe some of these girls have their own inner "Zorpoxes" just waiting to be unleashed… R~13_**

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 331/12 . chapter 15_

I really enjoyed the dream sequences, and Shego's in particular. Made me crave more RonGo...though if I could get a double dose of your story, that would also suffice.

**_Well, maybe there will be more Rongo. Though I am considering a little Kigo. We'll see how things go… R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 730/13 . chapter 15 _

"Get me the Home Office. He's wrecking my home!" – John Lennon  
>Another good chapter. Electric Sheep? Must've eaten one too many Electric Prunes. Let's see if I have this right (probably don't): 5 AIs (Bebe, Cece and 3 others), 4 robotics scientists (Dr. Porter, and the others who put the Beebees together), 3 star-crossed lovers (Ron, Tara and Shego), 2 international organizations (WEE, and Global Justice), 1 mad geneticist (Dr. Amy Hall) and Keith Partridge in a Pear Tree (this one I have right). I though Marcella was shy. If so then how could Marcella have a big mouth?<p>

If I remember correctly Bonnie has the same skin complexion as Connie, Lonnie and Mrs. Rockwaller, with slight variations in skin tone. Mr. Rockwaller probably even has the same skin complexion. At least Hope didn't do what Kramer did and went with butter.

I don't think Kim ever called Ron, Stoppable, even when peeved. It was usually Ron! or expanding his the letters of his name. RROOOOONNNN! I'm still amazed that Ron in these dreams hasn't blown a fuse, gotten a nosebleed or fainted. But then again, it's the girls' dreams.

I for one am re-reading the chapters. You never know, you might have missed something the first time around. An Elton John/Kiki Dee duet, but written by Ann Orson and Carte Blanche. It was recorded during the recordings for the Blue Moves album. It was Elton's second single without longtime bassist Dee Murray, and drummer Nigel Olsson, both of whom were let go following the recording of "Capt. Fantastic and the Brown Cowboy" as Elton wanted to go in different direction. Both would return for another stint with Elton in the 1980s and both did stints with Kiki Dee. Today Nigel still makes the occasional appearance with Elton John, while Nigel died in 1992 of a stroke. Side note: Dee Murray was one of the many bassists to pass through the group Procol Harum, replacing Dr. Chris Copping in March 1977. Murray was with the group for about 3 months, before the band split in June.

Found pics of the 4 unnamed Middleton cheerleaders on the Kim Possible Wikipedia not Wikipedia Kim Possible. Could you identify which of your cheerleaders are which: (Maggie, Linda, Ashley, or W.C.) BTW: I am reminded of W.C. Fields every time I see those initials.  
>Keep up the good work.<p>

**_"Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep" was the title of the novel by Philip K. Dick that was made into the move "Bladerunner." Easter eggs. As for the countdown? Time will tell. I'd actually forgotten about putting that in there which is why I have to go back through the entire story from time to time to pick up the lost threads. I know people who can act extroverted in certain situations but are still shy and not very open about a great deal of their real selves. I'm not sure where the picture of the 4 other cheerleaders is that you're accessing so I can't point them out to you. Sorry. I've just seen various screen captures that show one or two or three and have pieced them together back when. Ah, Mr. Fields..."I was married once: little woman drove me to drink! Only good thing she ever did for me..." R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 94/13 . chapter 15 _

Despite the fact that it might make me seem girly, I have to say: all the dreams were great, but shego's was just... awesome? amazing? spectacular?

Take your pick, just know that any story with a Ron/ Shego pairing I read from now on, has to pass the bar you just set.

**_Thanks, man! Doing Shego in this story is a high-wire balancing act. Can't just turn her into a sappy, Ronnie-luvving, girl-toy in just a few thousand words. If she stops being the Shego we all-er-many of us-fell in love with, well then, what would be the point. But there have been a couple of key scenes providing insights into Shego's soul and what makes her tick well before this deeply meaningful dream. And a cemetary scene coming up down the road that will reveal more. Shego's on a journey, here, and I'm not sure of her final destination (I have three, in mind, to choose from). R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 94/13 . chapter 15 _

P.S.: I would still like to have this story as a harem.

**_Sigh...you guys and your harems...all right: who do you want in? And don't say everyone! There's only so much that I can keep track of, much less jiggle-I mean juggle... R~13_**


	16. Rising and Shining

**Required Disclaimer:** _The standard disclaimers remain in effect. Fan Fiction. Unauthorized. Unpaid. Unappreciated._

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><p><strong>Chapter 16 – Rising &amp; Shining<strong>

Warhok's and Warmonga's absence did not go unnoticed back on Lowardia.

Like all bureaucracies, reports could be late or go unread for months. But, eventually, an entire invasion fleet was going to be missed.

Inquiries were made.

Contacts attempted.

Eventually a Lowardian scout was dispatched to Earth—the planet where Warmonga had suffered an ignominious defeat and had returned with Warhawk and an invasion armada to make an example of their puny foes.

Their failure to return triumphant—or even forward a gloating email—however, was troubling.

An in-depth investigation of the matter was finally ordered.

And the scout was tasked with following the trail to wherever—or whomever—it might lead…

**RSVP**

The next morning a group of dewy-eyed girls assembled in the main room of the restaurant area of the warehouse.

The interior work was coming along quite nicely and it was actually beginning to look more like a place you'd choose for a nice dinner as opposed to a place you'd store heavy machinery.

There were even chandeliers hanging overhead, now. Large, opulent crystal affairs, each large enough to hide a half dozen ninja garbed monkeys.

As they were doing right now without anyone else being the wiser.

Anyone else, save for a three-year old girl running all over upstairs (emphasis on "all over") with an exasperated nanny trying to catch her.

Betty and Shego consulted briefly before calling the meeting to order.

"Okay, here is the situation as of now," Shego announced, giving everyone else her "settle down" look. Even as a _reformed_ super-villain, it was remarkably effective. "Ron remains unconscious but I understand that he's stable for now. Based upon information in his file, we believe that he's currently in a healing trance—" A hand shot up in the back of the room. "—so—yes? Hope, is it?"

"Can we get a copy of this file?" the Eurasian girl asked hopefully.

"No," the mint-hued woman answered shortly. "It's probably—"

"Why not?"

She frowned "What?"

"I asked 'why not?'" Hope persisted.

"Yeah, I'd like to see it, too," Marcella chimed in.

A chorus of "Yeahs!" and "Me too"s rippled through the room.

Shego closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "Betts?"

The noticeably younger head of Global Justice stood and brought her hands up in a shushing motion. "First of all, there is information in Ron's file that we are legally prevented from sharing with anyone lacking high-access clearance—"

"If we told you, we'd have to kill you," Shego growled.

Surprisingly, several of the girls growled back and Vivian raised a hand to her face to hide a sudden smile.

"—but perhaps a more compelling reason," Betty continued as if there had been no interruption, "is that Ron is entitled to his personal privacy and should be the one to decide who knows what about his history and background."

That seemed to go over better though there was a little residual grumbling.

"So where was I?" Shego muttered.

"Healing trance," the girls answered, almost as one.

Shego stopped and gave them all another look. Something was off. They all looked a little tired, yet strangely…_perky_…this morning. A look she had previewed this morning in her own bathroom mirror.

"Did anyone have—er—an unusually _vivid_ dream last night?" she asked pointedly.

No one spoke but a series of disturbing grins bloomed across the other faces in the room. Even the scowling countenance of Bonnie Rockwaller was transformed into features approximating the Mona Lisa—basking in an afterglow! And—sonofabitch!—Betty was blushing like a schoolgirl! _Oh no he didn't!_ she thought, remembering her own nocturnal bliss.

This would require further investigation but, for now, there was other business to attend to. "As I was saying, Ron is in a healing trance but some new evidence has just come to my attention that he is feeling much better."

A series of oooo's and oooohh's greeted this pronouncement.

"The fact that he is still unconscious is advantageous in that _Operation Duff Justice_ can go forward without Ron's interference or further endangering himself."

There were murmurs of approval at this and Shego pressed on. "I've been on the phone with M.C. Honey this morning and everything is all set. In fact, she should be here any minute. If any of you want to back out now, this is the time. We'll still be able to make adjustments to the plan and no one will blame you. You will be operating in a foreign country without official governmental or Global Justice sanction. Duff Killigan is a dangerous criminal and the only one of you with any mission experience is Bonnie—who's been on exactly one mission. Stuck to Kim. And rescued by Ron and a group of Pixie Scouts."

"I was a Pixie Scout."

"Shut up, Amelia," Bonnie murmured.

"Bonnie's not the one who has the most mission experience here," Anne protested.

"I'm not talking about _here_," Shego said pointedly. "I'm talking about over _there_. As we mentioned yesterday, some of us are precluded from going. Dr. Betty, here, can't go because this is totally unsanctioned by Global Justice and she could end up in deep doo-doo just talking to us about our plans. Aside from the fact that my job as Ron's Security Chief requires me to remain at his side, I'm too high profile: the moment Duff sees me, the operation is totally blown." She nodded at Kim's mother. "The same goes for you, Anne. Sorry." She continued on to Joss who was practically squirming in her chair. "Sorry, Li'l Kim, but hips and impressive ta-tas don't count. As far as I'm concerned, you're still underage. Monique's still on crutches." She glanced at Tara. While there had been some question of the platinum blonde remaining to monitor Ron's vitals and provide nursing care, she ultimately decided that her boss might fare better recovering in isolation. "That leaves Bonnie, Tara, Marcella, Hope, Crystal, Zita, Vivian, Maggie, Linda, and…"

"Amelia," the sultry brunette supplied as Shego racked her memory for the newest recruit.

"Right. So, Bonnie is the one with mission seniority by default."

"So, I'm in charge?" the teal-eyed brunette asked with a hint of her old smirk. A series of plaintive sighs followed from around the room.

"Officially?" It was the green-hued hottie's turn to smirk. "I'm in charge. I'll monitor and provide direction from home base. You'll make whatever decisions that have to be made independently as circumstances dictate once the plan is in motion. M.C. Honey is in charge of transportation, set-up, and asset liaison." She nodded at the superstar rapper who had just appeared in the doorway. Eyebrows shot up around the room.

"Liaison?" someone whispered.

"I've prepared mission packets for you all to study on the plane," Betty interjected, passing out a series of sealed manila envelopes. "The B-bots are loading your gear even as we speak. You'll be wheels-up in less than an hour so you'll take your detailed briefings mid-flight. But the general overview remains the same. Killigan is participating in a high-stakes, celebrity golf tournament in the Kingdom of Babastan. The nine of you will gain entry to that tournament by posing as caddies to celebrity golfers."

"But there are ten of us," Bonnie interrupted, "and we've only got three celebrities. Are they going to show up with three caddies apiece and the last one hides in a golf bag?"

"Of course not," Betty answered. "I was able to secure two additional volunteers for tournament and this mission. "The actor Timothy North—you may remember him for his role of _The Fearless Ferret_. And Prince Wallace the Third of the Newly Democratic Nation of Rodigan. Mr. North is close friend of Ron's and his royal highness credits Team Possible with not only saving his life but saving his country, as well. Both enthusiastically agreed to helping us out. And both are meeting us at the airport," she added as the others looked around the room.

"We're still short four 'celebrities' by my count," Bonnie observed.

"Got it covered, girl," M.C. Honey answered from the doorway. "I convinced some industry friends that Ron and Kim could use their help." Four familiar-looking young men entered the room as the rapper introduced them. "May I present the rest of the team: Robby, Nicky Nick, Ryan, and Dexter. You know them as the band, Oh Boyz!"

After a round of excited chatter, Shego got things organized and the celebrities were paired with their mission caddies: Heather and Bonnie, Britina and Tara, M.C. Honey and Maggie, Timothy North and Vivian, Prince Wally and Linda, Robby and Marcella, Nicky Nick and Hope, Ryan and Crystal, Dexter and Amelia.

"What about the bots?" Bonnie asked as they started to head for the exits.

"The B-bots are somewhat unreliable in taking orders from anyone but Ron so they'll stay behind, as well," Shego answered. "Luck, ladies!"

**RSVP**

She awoke to discomfort.

Her head still spun as if she had been tranquilized into unconsciousness. She opened her eyes but could see nothing: a blindfold of sorts covered her upper face.

And that was all that she wore.

Her comfortable chair had been replaced by a hard, cool surface—metal by the feel of it.

And her arms and legs were cuffed and pulled away from her body, stretching her prone form into the shape of an "X".

_The Lowardians!_

Captain Shaula Lesath silently cursed herself. She had been so focused on the subject of her investigation that she had forgotten to be on guard for any Lowardian scouts who might have been dispatched to investigate the disappearance of their invasion fleet!

There was little doubt that they had come upon her while she was immersed in her analysis of the bio-electric broadcast from her target's room. They would have returned her to their ship for interrogation and, if she was lucky, would terminate her after they finished questioning her. If she was not so lucky, she would be taken back to Lowardia where her fate would be even more unpleasant.

Yet, her immediate situation was dire enough.

The Lowardians didn't believe in using truth serums and brain scans for prisoner interrogations—though they had the science and technology for both. Rather, they preferred the ancient methods, the crudities of torture and humiliation. Her hope was in the latter first as Lowardian rape was usually fatal given the difference in their respective sizes.

"Well…awake I see…"

She flinched at the sound of the low voice purring in her ear.

"You're a pretty little thing," it cooed. A touch along her flank: it slid up her hip, along the upper curve of her side, floating over the fingered prominences of her ribs and ending just below her armpit. "Ah, and so…responsive…" it added as she gasped and squirmed.

"What do you want?" she growled, knowing it was useless to act fierce when she was naked and vulnerable and her restraints were unbreakable.

"What do I want…" The voice seemed to ponder the question carefully. "I want a great many things…"

"Of me, you bastard!" she shouted. And waited for the resounding slap that must follow.

"Bastard?" The voice seemed mildly surprised. "Why…I suppose that's true. I never thought about it. I guess I don't know who my father or even my mother are. Unless you count Humiliation and Disregard as my true parents…

"But we're not here to talk about me…" The voice was circling the table and she could feel his intense gaze on her body even though the blindfold held her in darkness. "…we're here to talk about you."

"I have nothing to say!" she shouted. She instantly regretted it. The loudness of her voice betrayed her fear and made her seem even weaker.

"I think we both know that that's not true…" Fingers brushed her stomach. "So pretty…so soft…so…blue…" The voice seemed a little surprised. "You're not from around here."

"You know where I'm from!"

"Well…let's pretend I don't…"

"Shaula Lesath, captain, Uptopian Military Intelligence. That's all that you're going to get out of me, Lowardian swine!"

"Lowar—oh!" The voice chuckled. "I see…"

There was something wrong here. If this were a typical Lowardian interrogation, she would be screaming her lungs out by now, lost in an ocean of pain and horror. Instead she was being…toyed with…

And analyzed in an unfamiliar way.

But…the unfamiliarity seemed to lie with her interrogator!

And the hand on her tummy—no larger than the hand of a Lowardian toddler!

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why have you imprisoned me?" Another thought. "Where are my clothes?"

"I'm asking the questions, my little blue belle! I want to know where you come from and why you are following m—Ron Stoppable around in disguise." He hesitated and withdrew his hand. "Wait! Your name! Shaula Lesath! Shaula…and Lesath. Lesath and Shaula! Your name is a combination of the names for the two stars in the tail of the scorpion!"

"The what?"

"One of our star constellations as seen from Earth: Scorpius. The 'Scorpion'. The two stars that make up the stinger in its tail are Lambda Scorpii or, in the ancient Arabic, 'Shaula'—and Upsilon Scorpii or Lesath."

"I know nothing of astronomy," she protested.

"Maybe not _our_ astronomy," the voice allowed. "But your skin, your hair and eyes, indicate that you come from another planet—most likely, another star system."

""Don't—don't be silly. It's simply makeup. I was—going to a costume party."

"Oh my dear…" There was a low, throaty chuckle. "I know truly blue skin when I see it. Better than most, in fact." Something touched her stomach again. It was warm and wet and swept up her abdomen, from just below her navel to her midriff. "Mmmmm. No makeup. Just lovely flesh. And flesh that—while it looks mostly like ours—covers some noticeable differences in your internal organs." A hand squeezed her breast causing her to gasp. Then another slid up the inside of her quivering thigh to gently cup her sex. "Still, it would appear that you might be able to breed and produce a hybrid child. That might make for an interesting experiment…"

"I'll kill you!" she seethed.

"Oh, Betty Blue, I'm not worried about you doing anything to me. It's Ron Stoppable that I'm worried about. Are you here to 'sting' him to death, my alien assassin? Or are you seeking an alliance with the Blue God in your fight against the Lowardians?"

She was silent.

"Or do you even know?"

"Does he know that I am shadowing him?" she asked finally.

"Not yet."

"And are you going to tell him?"

"Probably not. Why spoil the fun?"

**RSVP**

Jack Hench frowned as he noted that no one was manning the security desk in the HenchCo lobby as he arrived for work. Someone was soooo fired when and if they eventually turned up. Knuckles tightened to ivory on the handle of his briefcase, he advanced to the elevators and punched the button for the top floor.

His bad mood soured further on the long ride up: the muzak trickling out of the hidden speakers was that "Call Me, Beep Me" pop song that the little cheerleader used as her own personal anthem.

First memo of the day: fire office music service and find suitable replacement.

The elevator doors opened to frozen chaos.

Bodies littered the reception area.

His security people. Trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys, their faces were bruised and expressive above the gags that covered their mouths. They were draped over the couches and chairs in the waiting room and four were on the floor, arranged to form an arrow pointing to the door that led to his office in the back.

His receptionist, Mrs. Beasley, was sitting in her chair with her wrists lightly taped together, a pair of scissors in front of her on her desk. Clearly she could free herself at any time but had chosen to not do so as of yet.

"M-mister H-hench," she stammered, "I was told to say th-that she will see you, now…"

Hench took another look around, noting that there were over a dozen incapacitated thugs, martial artists, and ex-military goons still unconscious or incapacitated—and then the wastebasket full of guns that had been taken from all of them. He started to reach for one and then thought the better of it. He looked back at the elevator doors and considered a strategic retreat until he could muster more reinforcements.

"I—I wouldn't, sir," Mrs. Beasley said, the trembling in her voice a bit more pronounced. "She was very clear on the point that you were to go right in. She doesn't like waiting."

Hench nodded slowly. He went to the door past the reception desk and opened it. The short hallway beyond was lined with additional downed guards. He made his way back to his office and opened the door.

He saw the blonde, first. She was reclining on one of the couches near his desk. She had done some free-lance work for him before disappearing last year. The big chair on the other side of his desk pivoted, revealing the room's other occupant. "Hello, Jack. Long time no see." Her lips were curled in a predatory smile.

"Miss Possible," he said, wondering who her new hairdresser was. "What can I do for you?"

She smiled a little more. "Good answer!"

**RSVP**

Zita stretched languidly and gazed up at her savior-slash-lover as he buckled his belt. "Do we have to go so soon?" she whispered as he reached for his strapped t-shirt.

"I thought you were in a hurry to get out," he murmured with a smile as he pulled the top over his head and ribbed fabric covered defined pectorals and chiseled abs.

"That was before I…let you _in_," she answered coyly. "Come back to bed…"

He leaned over and kissed her, touching the tip of her tongue with his, and then straightened. "I wish I could but I think we're about out of time."

She sat up and let the covers drop away. "Are you sure I can't _convince_ you?"

He smiled—a little wistfully, she thought—and said: "Don't tell anyone, Z. You are my favorite."

Then he flickered.

_And turned into Monique!_

Zita squeaked and grabbed for the covers. They were gone. She covered her naked bosom with her hands…and discovered that she was wearing a shirt. And jeans.

The abandoned hotel room had turned into Monique's apartment. And she was sitting on the same sofa that she had sat down on to try the new Zombie Mayhem game—_when? Last night?_

"Girl, how long have you been sitting here in the dark?" her surprised host asked, holding the immersion cap that she had just removed from her disoriented guest's head.

"I—I don't know," Zita stammered. "You were out when I came by so I thought I'd wait for you. And then I saw the new game and thought I'd check it out while I waited…"

"I was just downstairs for a short morning meeting…"

"Morning?" Zita gulped. "Was I here all night?"

"Girl, I do _not_ know! I got in late last night and made a beeline for bed. I wouldn't have seen Godzilla if he was sitting there with the light off. And then I was in a hurry this morning. Didn't even have time to grab a shower! Which I am going to do, now. Want to help me wrap this cast in plastic?"

"S-sure…" Zita got up slowly, her aching muscles confirming that she had spent the night on her friend's couch. She wondered as she followed Monique back into the bedroom area how much she should tell her about her online experience. "Is—um—Ron around?"

**RSVP**

There were Rons everywhere!

Big Rons. Little Rons. Old Rons. Young Rons. Baby Rons. A couple of girly Rons. Even more than one blue Ron.

But as he chased himself through the maze of corridors and rooms that revealed another Ron or two at every turn, Ron Prime never lost sight of his alter-ego who bore the name Zorpox.

The giggling lunatic called over his shoulder: "I'm just as fast as you are so you won't catch me unless I let you!"

"Maybe," Ron Prime allowed, "but physical strength and speed aren't the only factors that count. Will matters just as much, if not more!"

"Will? Who's he?" Zorpox tittered. "Seriously, though; I'm _you_—stripped of your insecurities, doubts, self-imposed restraints, feelings of inadequacy, guilt…the list goes on… I'm _you!_ The _better_ you! So, if you want to prattle on about _will_ power, I have it! You're the one who is always sabotaged by his _won't_ power!"

"It's not right," Ron Prime gritted. "Without restraint, there is no moral governance. You misuse and abuse the power that is rightfully mine—"

"Oh, please! You misuse and abuse the Blue by sitting on it and doing nothing! We've been given a great gift. It's wrong to not use it. And moral governance? If I had no morals, I could subjugate a city, a whole nation, eventually the world! Those girls you're so worried about could be my obedient slaves, without choice, without will.

"But I don't do that. Sure, I may have enhanced their feelings a little. So what? Every time you comb your hair a certain way, wear the right clothes, bust some moves on the dance floor, rescue a kitten from a tree—you're gonna get the opposite sex to pay a little more attention. Is that wrong? Can I help it if I get the ladies' attention when I slap on a little MMP cologne? Really, Ronald, _you_ crossed more of a line when you messed with those girls' memories. _That_ was invasive, controlling, and manipulative. All that I've done is play a little kootchie-koo with what's already there."

"Well stop it!" Ron yelled. "I don't want it! I don't like it!"

"Why not?"

"What?"

Zorpox stopped running and turned to face his pursuer with his arms crossed. "_Why_ don't you like it?"

Ron Prime slowed to a stop and raised his fist as he confronted the other with just a few feet separating them. "What are you saying?"

"It's _not_ complicated," the blue baddie elaborated. "Most men would kill to have all of this female attention. The rest?" He shrugged. "Would kill to have this much _male _attention."

"I don't swing that way," Ron rebutted. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Well which way _do_ you swing?" Zorpox asked. "Because I'm a little confused. What's not to like about a bunch of beautilcious babes competing to—"

Ron shot him a dangerous look.

"—be your arm candy? Aren't you lonely? Don't you believe in love? Isn't bigger better? The more the merrier?"

"Yes, yes, not necessarily, and no when it comes to the second question."

Zorpox hesitated. "I'm sorry, I lost count."

"I _believe_ in love," Ron said hoarsely. "I've known _real_ love. I can't imagine another woman measuring up to my Yori. So I'm resigned to having had what most people will never know and spending the rest of my life honoring that memory!"

"Is that what you think the MMP stands for? Mystical _Monk_ Power? Get over yourself! Yes, your ninja bride was all that, and more. But I know for a fact that she wanted you to love again! I was _there_ when she told us, you buffoon! She wants _us_ to love again! And if you're too chickenshit to find and face the woman who broke our heart in the first place, at least be willing to troll for an acceptable substitute while you work through your issues!"

Ron did not understand Zorpox's last comment. The woman who broke his heart? In some ways all of the women around him had rejected him or called him "loser" or showed some form of disregard through those painful high school years—but he wasn't sure that any of that rose to the level of true heart-brokenness. Maybe Zorpox was dishing out a little payback for those who had dissed him in the past. Or maybe there was a girl in the mix who had wounded him more than he knew, more than he could remember? Tara, so tantalizingly close yet missed by a mile? Or Bonnie, with her endless put-downs and wall of snark?

Or…another?

Perhaps that was a mystery worth investigating…

But not in a stew of mystically amped emotions!

Cold logic should prevail.

Cold…like his heart.

Without any lunatic interference!

He cupped his hands and a crackling ball of blue energy formed between his palms.

Zorpox took a step back. "Think about this: I'm you! You can't destroy me without destroying yourself!"

"Maybe…" He palmed the energy sphere in his right hand and drew it back. "It's a risk I'm willing to take!" And he hurled the deadly force at his lunatic genius self.

**RSVP**

Elle snuggled next to Ron's virtual avatar in the disheveled hotel bed. "This is so nice…but I can't wait for the real thing!"

"What is real?" her virtual lover asked.

"Our physical bodies are still miles apart. But I will come to you! I'll find a way! I swear—"

Ron disappeared.

Without a goodbye. Without a gesture.

Just a blue flash and he was gone!

**RSVP**

As the privately chartered plane lifted up from the runway, some of its passengers experienced a brief flash of vertigo and shared a collective shudder.

**RSVP**

One moment Captain Shaula Lesath was naked and strapped down to a high-tech St. Andrew's Cross; the next, she was reclining in her chair at the monitoring station in her scoutcraft. The virtual immersion skullcap was knocked askew as she jumped up and grabbed at her upper and lower torso—which was still fully clothed.

"What the Frell!" she bellowed.

There was no immediate answer in the data-stream.

**RSVP**

Zorpox and Ron Prime stared at each other and simultaneously asked each other: "What just happened?"

"Jinx," yelled dozens of voices around them, "you guys owe us a soda!

**RSVP**

Justine Flanner put her arms around the Possible twins' shoulders and smiled. "Great job, boys! How long will the magnetic bottle remain stable?"

"We don't know," Jim answered.

"We tested several forms of unstable energy matrices," Tim eleaborated.

"And would project prolonged success based on available data," Jim concluded.

"But we still don't know what we're dealing with here," they both added.

Together, all three watched the squirming tendrils of amorphous blue energy that sometimes looked like a turquoise sun, sometimes like a hazy azure ape that pounded against the non-conductive magnetic fields that held it prisoner.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: As everybody is waking up, the old saying "Rise and Shine" seems appropriate here. Especially the "shining" part. Although it looks like somebody may have lost his "shine" thanks to Justine and the Tweebs.<strong>

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><p><strong>Authors  Notes: _**Thanks for the reviews & feedback! So many things have happened and are happening that my motivation is slipping at times. Other times my motivations to do other things are stronger or the rewards are greater, so this project slips down the list. Reader response helps keep me focused and motivated, so your words—kind or critical—move this project back up the list to a higher priority. Just like everyone else. Thanks!**_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 16<strong>

_CajunBear73 4/27/12 . chapter 16_

Well ya gotta wonder just what the fallout will be for Ron and the ladies now...

But maybe he has a chance to 'remember'...Oh if Zorpox would have mind-melded that missing piece.

Now to see how the mission, Ron waking up, the ladies losing that 'glow' and Kim's plans turn out...

CB73

And yeah, real life does pile on. Hang in there, we know.

_**Hmmmm…do you think Zorpox is deliberately withholding information? Or doesn't remember, himself? As for the fallout, keep reading but remember: it's still early… R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 427/12 . chapter 16_

The tweebs stole the MMP? Oh boy is Sensei gonna be pissed.

Now I wonder what Kimmie wants with Jack Hench over at HenchCO.

And the girls (playing as caddies) and their celebrites flying to the golf match. I guess that skirt wearing maniac is gonna have some fun if the girls don't fall all over each other (and this will allow the author to cull the crop of girls down to a managible number too.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**I'm keeping track of more characters and plot-threads than most readers imagine…but I wasn't thinking about Sensei's reaction! Gonna have to do something about that! No direct Duff action, yet, but it's coming! R~13**_

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><p><em>Pavelius 428/12 . chapter 16_

*pokes the fanfic with a stick*

Oh it is still twitching...

Welcome back and a nice chapter...

So the MMP is captured? I wonder i that means, that all the different Rons will be on rampage now...

Keep it up

Pavel

_**Rons on the rampage! I like it! (twitches a little) R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 428/12 . chapter 16_

the ronshines after effects are showing and im glad your keeping ron out of the way for a while

_**Yeah, we'll be spending a little more time with the girls for now. And a few other members of the cast… R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 429/12 . chapter 16_

Loved this chapter, especially the conversation between Zorpox and Ron. Is it a bad thing that I'm more apt to side with Zorpox?

_**Naw, dramatically speaking, evil is always more interesting in that it is often complex, tragic, and brings the action and conflict. If Shego had been Ron's sidekick on the show and they were always battling Drakken and Kim, you'd see some very interesting Kon (or Rim) fanfic. Besides, Zorpox is probably the most logical entity in the mix: practical, competent, and unwilling to take crap from anybody. If only he could do something about his Maria Menounos laugh… R~13**_

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><p><em>pbow 51/12 . chapter 16_

More like rising and Ron-shining.

Does the last scene mean that Ron no longer has his MMP?

Will Bonnie be able to lead her team to victory after no being able to lead the cheer squad during the season 1 candy drive?

Will Monique's leg ever heal and will Wade have a few more drug induced non-fantasies?

Will Justine and the Tweebs run off to Vegas and get hitched? (A 3-way genius joining.)

Will the PDVI explode from the blue mystical mist and blow a hole in Colorado the size of Nevada?

Will I stop asking questions? I will when the next installment comes out, which I hope will be soon.

pbow

_**pbow: 1. Yes; 2. Stay tuned; 3. Yes and Probably; 4. Ewwww—wrongsick!; 5. I love it when you guys give me ideas…; 6. I hope not and I hope so, too! R~13**_

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><p><em>Some Dude 94/13 . chapter 16 _

So Ron was the one holding the alien captive... figured. As for the girls and their collective shudder; was it good or bad? For example: has the absence of MMP stopped their libido; or has it had the opposite effect? Like was Ron subconsciously keeping them from swarming him with the MMP, but now that is gone, nothing is holding them back?

**_Don't blame Ron for the Uptopian incident-he knows nothing about it. That's your good buddy Zorpox stirring the pot. And as for the fallout from the bottling of the MMP? Keep reading... R~13_**

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><p><em>DJ Rodriguez chapter 16 94/14_

Not bad, not bad at all! Thank you for posting this up! I wonder what else is going to happen next? I hope that the girls still decide to go through with the plan to bring Duff to justice. In any case, excellent work! Keep it up!

_**Thanks DJ-especially on posting on the 1-year anniversary of the last review! I think the girls are pretty committed. But you may have noticed that the plot of this story-just like real life-rarely goes as smoothly as one might hope... R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 16 . 96/14_

"Stiggy, wakey, wakey."- Jezza

_**As usual, Foxy, you manage to insert a quote/reference from a slice of fandom that I am totally unfamiliar with...**_

That's Wallace III.

_**Either way is acceptable. I prefer "the Third" for its usage here as we are dealing in actual dialogue as opposed to a titular listing.**_

Would not have seen Godzilla? Okay, that's a little hard to buy. 1st he's really tall and big. Not to mention he leaves a lot of destruction in his wake. Anywhere from building flattened, bridges demolished, phone lines or electrical wires torn down as well as giant footprints. Not to mention scorch marks from when he used his atomic nuclear breath. Basically he's that hard to miss even if she was very or extremely tired. She'd end up dead if she wasn't careful.

_**Hyperbole. But I assume that you know that and are merely indulging in a little of your own... ;-)**_

Did Ron really love Yori? I think that he did. But not in the same way that he would if they had gotten together under normal circumstances. Meaning if Kim was still around and that they (Kim and Ron) were just friends. Ron loved Yori, but he had closed himself off to Kim and may not have given everything he could've given to Yori as he would if he and Kim were together.

_**Agreed. And we may have the chance to put both relationships to the test before we're done. R~13**_


	17. Afterthoughts

**Required Disclaimer:**_ The RSVP Saga, this chapter included, is a work of fanfiction and has no claim to the source materials, concepts, characters, and ideas of the Kim Possibleverse which is the property of The Mouse House. Furthermore, this author stipulates: _

_The RSVP Saga does not deprive the owners of the source material of income_

_The RSVP Saga work as free advertisement and promotion of the original source material_

_The RSVP Saga is a non-profit piece of whimsy._

_The RSVP Saga does not copy, or attempt to substitute for, the original work._

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><p><strong>Chapter 17 – Afterthoughts<strong>

Bonnie Rockwaller set aside her mission briefing and stared out of the window at the clouds as they swept past the wing of the chartered jet.

The events of the past few days had been enormously unsettling.

Her first year of college had profoundly reshaped her perspectives on life and shaken her values system to its very foundations.

As a college freshman, she was suddenly returned to the bottom of the food chain—her years of ascendency erased overnight. Rebuilding her status could take years and would take much in terms of accomplishments. Few cared about what she wore—and those who did were not the sorts she aspired to cultivate. Money was—to a large degree—a non-issue: student loans were the great equalizer on campus. In fact, poverty was a time-honored tradition in campus culture. And one's status might be better measured by the money they _would_ make once they graduated. Which came back to grades, performance, and accomplishment.

Fortunately, Bonnie possessed a sharp mind and a competitive drive and her professors were starting to take notice. Still, her looks and athleticism hadn't been enough to break the barriers in the sororities or the varsity cheer squad…

…until the Ron-factor came into play!

Post high school—and her disastrous dalliance with a certain vain and dim-witted Spanish billionaire—she had come to see how her issues with Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable were rooted in jealousy and her own longing to be free of the societal restraints she had forged for herself. Before the Lowardian invasion, she had been able to ignore the heroics that were rumored to have happened thousands of miles, if not half-a-planet away. But the destruction of Middleton had ripped away her blinders. And the world's acknowledgement of Ron Stoppable's feats had brought him out of the shadows and into the international spotlight. It simply wasn't possible to pretend that he was a loser anymore.

Even to herself.

Sometimes, late at night, she would lie awake, wondering, fantasizing, what might have been if she had been nice instead of nasty. If she had…

But it was pointless: she had poisoned that well for too many years to draw water from it now.

Except…

She shook her head.

And then the rumors had started, linking her name with his.

Oh, it wasn't much. And after a vague beginning, she had been the one to breathe on those embers, to fan the resulting flames.

Why?

Was it to take advantage of his reputation? Linking hers to his to further her own social ambitions?

Of course.

She couldn't really deny it.

But was it something more? A bit of role-play to enhance those little late night fantasies? That were growing more…unsettling…as she began to face the lost opportunities she had squandered by being such a bitch?

Yes…

If so many others might believe that "The Unstoppable" could be her boyfriend, her lover—might such a thing _still_ be possible?

Probably not.

But everyone needs a dream, even an impossible daydream, to get them through the long days of doubt and struggle and disappointment.

But then she had been invited to join the Varsity Squad—as full-fledged member, not just an alternate! And she was honored by her sisters' sorority, aided and abetted by one of the popular fraternities, and asked to pledge in a special ceremony!

_But_…not because of who she was or what she had done.

It was because they all thought she was _Ron's_ girl.

And her only value to all of them was that she might provide them with access…_to him!_

She wasn't even a person!

She was a device.

A means…

Her dismay and anger was a white flame that burned deep down inside her. She should have been consumed by its heat but all she could feel was a cold emptiness.

People only wanted to _use_ her.

And then there was Ron, himself…

He had asked her to help him with his contracts and paperwork.

He had her working for him.

The old Bonnie would have been mortified: doing errands for the loser!

The new Bonnie was _still_ mortified.

He was wealthy. He could afford the best legal counsel! Instead, he was overpaying her to do simple, first-year MBA scutwork. She was a _charity_ case for him!

Her cheeks flamed as she considered the trap she had fallen into. Ron Stoppable now defined her existence more than ever. Even her sisters' respect—so long fought for and withheld—was based on _his_ part in their rescue and their belief that he and Bonnie were a couple.

But they weren't a couple.

She was just his charity case.

And he was surrounded by all of these women anxious to do his bidding (and probably anxious to bear his children to hear some of the girl talk) while she just orbited somewhere in the outer circle of his friends and acquaintances.

Bonnie closed her eyes and drew a ragged breath.

Now she was about to risk her life just to avenge the deaths of his parents, people she didn't even know!

It was as if she was under some kind of magic spell.

In fact, how did one man acquire a virtual harem of women, all willing to share him and make sacrifices on his behalf?

As she pondered this particular conundrum, she recalled the rumors of his mysterious, mystical powers.

He had used them on her once before! She had experienced a period of near-amnesia related to her former classmate—something that had affected some of the other girls, as well, apparently.

It was unusual enough to chalk it up to some kind of mystical mass effect.

And the only source of _mystical powers_ was Mr. Stoppable, himself. Match that up to the fact that he was common factor in everyone else's amnesia and it wasn't too big a leap to figure him—consciously or unconsciously—as the culprit.

So, if he could manipulate her memories…why not her emotions?

Up until an hour ago, she had been entertaining very tender feelings for her former classmate.

Now, despite some confusion regarding the true nature of those feelings, she was feeling a greater clarity in regard to the enigma that was Ronald Dean Stoppable.

The question was, how did she feel about him now?

**RSVP**

Tara King stared down at her hands, folded together in her lap. It had all been very thrilling at first: flying off to a foreign country to perform a mission like the ones her Ron used to perform with former cheer mate, Kim Possible. Even more exciting was the chance to do something _for_ him: bringing the criminal who had killed his parents to justice. She had already fantasized about how he might express his gratitude.

Several times, in fact.

With a little time off in-between to recover.

But the thrill of being paired with pop sensation Britina had worn thin rather quickly. Not that she wasn't terribly nice but Tara had picked up on a very disturbing piece of information. The platinum blonde hottie wasn't on this mission to pay Ron back for the times that he and Kim had helped her out. Rather, the beautiful singer had her eye out for Ron as _more_ than a just friend!

Tara wasn't so naïve as to think she wouldn't have any competition for her long-time crush's heart. She'd noticed how the other Middleton girls had taken an interest in the boy they had once ignored or dismissed out of hand. Perhaps it was hubris but the blue-eyed blonde didn't count them as much in the way of competition given that very history.

Shego, Vivian, Mrs. Possible, and that Director woman were another matter, however, and now it looked like she was going to have to compete with a movie star as well as an international pop sensation!

Life _so_ wasn't fair!

Fortunately, Britina's cell phone rang and she didn't have to work at having a pleasant conversation while the other platinum blonde took the call.

So she contemplated the subtle shift that she had felt less than an hour ago.

Something had happened after they took off: she had harbored feelings for Ron for so long that she was sensitive to those tides of longing as they had ebbed and flowed over the years. At times she had dated others and Ron had slipped back to being a friend and fond memory. Other times she had almost stalked him as he obliviously chased after Zita or finally achieved BF/BF status with his childhood friend, Kimberly Ann Possible.

Through it all, she had a finely tuned sense of her feelings for the blond boy. And now, in the air, with the American continent falling far behind her, she was aware of another shift in her feelings.

For some time now she had been practically obsessing over her long-time crush. _Capped by that surreal—imaginary—encounter while she was tending to his unconscious form._

But now she felt as if she had been freed from an unhealthy compulsion.

That warm feeling was still there. She felt as she always had—maybe even more so now that she was unattached and Kim was out of the picture. But she was back to being more…_herself_…again. Still carrying a torch for the sweetest, kindest, bravest boy she had ever known. But, once again, too shy to speak her mind and probably forever doomed to watch from the sidelines while someone else swooped in and swept him off of his feet.

Still…

She clenched and unclenched her hands, feeling imaginary claws emerge as she thought about Britina stealing away the man that Tara had known and loved for years.

Gradually she became aware that her equally blonde nemesis had put away her cell phone and was shaking her arm.

"Tara? Tara! Hello?"

"Uh, sorry B; I was thinking…"

"So you didn't hear any of that call?"

"No. I figured you ought to have your privacy."

"My cousin Jessie!" Britina squealed. "They found her!"

"Your cousin Jessie?"

"Yeah!" She nodded expectantly. Saw that Tara wasn't following. "Jessica!"

"What? Wait! Jessica on the Mad Dog Cheer Squad? Is your cousin?"

Britina nodded excitedly.

"And you say they found her?"

The other blonde nodded again.

Suddenly Hope and Marcella were leaning over their seat backs. "Is she all right? What happened? Where was she?"

"I don't know much, yet. Apparently she was found wandering around Middleton last night. She was a little hysterical and not able to tell the family or the police anything useful. Kept going on and on about being in Ron's house with Liz and getting sucked into a tunnel of some kind."

"What about Liz?" Crystal wanted to know.

"No one knows yet. Jessie's still pretty confused. She says that she and Liz were at Ron's house—"

"We're talking about his parents' house, right? Not the warehouse?

"Yes-"

"What were they doing there?"

"But Ron's house blew up almost a month ago!"

"Where has she been since then?"

Britina shook her head. "I don't know. It looks like she has some kind of amnesia. Finding out the Ron's house was gone—that his parents and Kim's dad and brothers were killed—really shocked her. And she was _already_ pretty shocked!"

Britina's words pierced the hearts of the others on the plane. Those who had felt their recent feelings for Ron Stoppable come into question as their minds emerged from a blue-tinged haze, felt a renewed purpose and determination take root.

"Killigan's going down!" Maggie shouted from the back of the plane.

**RSVP**

Up in the cockpit, the pilot turned to the co-pilot. "What's that noise?"

The co-pilot removed his headphones and was surprised to hear muffled voices despite the soundproofing of the cabin.

"It sounds like a bunch of people yelling that they're going to 'kill again'!"

"Roger that. Check and make sure that the bulkhead door is locked and secure."

**RSVP**

Zita openly wept as Monique looked on helplessly. "So it wasn't real?"

"Well…of course…'real'…is…um…kind of a subjective thing," she said, trying to figure out how to comfort the love-struck Latina while sorting out the truth of the story she had just heard. "But, yes, Ron has been unconscious all of this time. There is no way that he was actually interacting with you online."

"So then…h-h-who…or hw-hw-what…was—" And she used a crude term to describe what she had held as an almost sacred act just a few minutes before. "—me while I was in the game all night?"

"Uh," the chocolate-colored beauty stammered, "I…couldn't say. You're more of an online/computer/A.I./gaming whiz than I am. And I wasn't there…"

"But who was?" Zita wailed.

Monique didn't know but felt a shiver pass through her that wasn't altogether creepy as she glanced through the door at the immersion cap that was in the other room.

**RSVP**

Shego sat in a chair next to Ron's bed and studied his face while he slept.

For awhile he appeared to be caught up in the throes of some disturbing nightmare and had tossed and turned while grimacing and evincing acute REM patterns beneath his twitching eyelids.

Then it seemed as if there was a pale blue flash and he settled down into a deeper, almost catatonic slumber.

She watched him now with a welter of emotions churning in her own heart.

Like Bonnie, she had worked out that she had been the victim of the young man's mystical powers, having worked her way back from the brink of forgetfulness once before. And now, with its sudden withdrawal, she could feel the absence of the…_power? Influence?_ The _mojo_ that had been there, quietly operating in the background, for so long now.

The first question was: _had it influenced her feelings to any large degree? _

She didn't think so—though she knew that she would be foolish to dismiss the idea too quickly. While it was not unreasonable to think that the man credited with almost singlehandedly saving the planet would have such a charismatic effect on the women around him, it was still somewhat coincidental in its scope and intensity for his immediate circle of friends and former classmates.

But she had watched him for years, taking his measure as an opponent first and, as an ally at the last. At times she felt that her respect for what he did actually preceded and outpaced Kim Possible's—not that she had ever allowed her face, voice, or words to betray her evolving feelings.

And, once he had breached her outer defenses…

Once he had slipped inside her mind (her heart?) and they had come to know each other through an intimacy denied to most…

She shook her head.

Maybe the blue had messed with her a little. But it didn't feel like a lot. And she was sure that she _could_ tell the difference.

So, the next question was: _was it on purpose?_

She didn't think so.

She thought that she knew him well enough to figure that one out.

Oh, the "forget all about me" was on purpose, all right. He'd admitted as much. It wasn't hard to figure: the boy (man!) didn't like being on a pedestal. Didn't want all of the attention.

_So why would he deliberately use his powers to make something like that happen?_

Stoppable had the goods to turn any sensible woman's head. A little blue enhancement would go a long way.

It was surprising, in fact, that women weren't throwing their naked bodies at him, fighting each other to the death…

She sighed. The world was lucky that the MMP was invested in such a man as Ron Stoppable. Many men—including a certain blue-skinned mad scientist—or a violet-hued teen hero and brother—would be a certified nightmare with those powers at their command.

So the final questions were…

_How did she really feel?_

Without the little blue nudges did she feel anything beyond a mild interest? Was she mistaking her own loneliness and her growing admiration for a fellow—what? Freak? Hero?

Was she drawn to him because no one else was so uniquely qualified to understand what it was like to be different?

Or was it pity for his emotional brokenness?

Or vulnerability to someone who had merged his mind with hers?

Or respect for his powers and accomplishment?

Or was she just a sucker for his overall likeability…and his acceptance and respect toward her?

All of it, she suspected.

_But was the sum of it the same as love?_

Affection?

Sure.

Booty call?

You bet.

But love?

_And what about his feelings?_

He had repeatedly said that he was still in mourning. That he couldn't consider any kind of emotional involvement.

With anybody.

But that pesky MMP seemed to have a different take on the matter.

_So, what did that mean?_

_And, if he was eventually inclined to open his heart again, would she even be a viable candidate in that inevitable competition?_

She shook her head again. The questions were many, the answers few.

Finding the truth would take time.

Did she want to spend that time only to get her heart bruised or broken?

Slowly, she got up and left the room.

**RSVP**

She searched the abandoned hotel after Ron disappeared but found nothing of consequence. Outside, she could see the occasional zombie shuffle by. With nothing to hold her in the game, Elle returned her consciousness back through the grid to her body in the power plant and maintenance hut behind Mastermind's mountain lair.

_Just in time! _

One of Mastermind's henchman was standing over her naked form and wriggling out of his red unitard. As the lower half of his crimson outfit puddled around his ankles, she could see what he had in mind. Apparently he had thought her naked and unconscious form meant that she was vulnerable and an easy target.

He was wrong.

Three minutes later she was doing her best to repurpose the oversized, hooded jumpsuit to her own, smaller frame. Its former occupant offered no assistance: he just twitched in the corner and smoked a little—without the benefit of a cigarette.

Elle glanced at the watch she had acquired from the unlucky evil minion. It was useless now, of course, but, having just stopped, she could see that the time she had left to intercept the delivery truck on its return trip to town was growing uncomfortably short.

She opened the outer door a wee bit and peeked through the narrow opening before slipping outside. Moving carefully and quietly, Electronique began to slip down the mountainside to intercept the hairpin curve on the dirt and gravel road.

**RSVP**

A dozen pairs of beady eyes stared at her, waiting for some sort of direction.

She stared back, wondering just what she could tell them.

They had all sensed it. The power that bound them together…

…was gone!

The power that tied them to _him_.

Only one other man had commanded their loyalty and devotion. And that man was gone as well.

So what now?

Stay out of loyalty?

Find a new master?

Or scatter to the winds and seek their separate destinies as best they could?

They all looked to her as she—above the rest of them—had had the closest relationship with him.

Chippy looked at each of the monkey ninjas in turn and signaled her decision…

**RSVP**

"See," the former redheaded, former heroine told the former extreme stunts action star. "Mr. Hench is a businessman and is easily persuaded of the financial viability of an alliance without having to resort to violence."

"Sure," Adrena Lynn chuckled as they exited the Hench Co building. "It's just a question of getting his attention. _With_ violence."

Kim's answer was interrupted by the ringtone on her cellphone. She shifted the shoulderbag holding the last surviving Attitudinator (along with a number of spare parts) and flipped open her new communications device. "What's the sitch?"

"Ms. Possible," Falsetto Jones chirped from half a world away. "I'm standing in a hospital ward over here in Japan. You'll never guess what I've found…"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Now that Ron's MMP has been trapped in a magnetic bottle by Justine Flanner and The Tweebs, it's influence over the minds and emotions of the girl's has been siphoned off and they begin to sort out their feelings in the aftermath...<strong>

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 17<strong>

_masterbow 5/4/12 . chapter 17_

Ronshine warning label: Ronshine may cause stalking, obessision, thoughts of a sexual nature, increases sex drive and irratation in the form of other women. May cause withdrawl sysptoms if not weened off. May cause Extreme anger if stop taking Ronshine. May cause thoughtfulness and feelings of self examining.

Ronshine is not recommended by medical professionals and this has nothing to do with the fact that the testing lasted 6 months conducted on a tropical island that no one has since left.

_**ROTFLMAO! R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 54/12 . chapter 17_

Justine's and the Tweeb's project may have freed the ladies to really take a hard look at their feelings for Ron in the short term, but they may have disarmed their greatest weapon in the process. Ah science for science's sake, it probably brought down things like Atlantis...

But still Ron has to contemplate his past and future for now without his MMP. He's either going to go mad or come to grips with saving himself. However there's still the issue of the inadvertent loss of his powers in the interim. Still I wonder if Zorpox will take the opportunity to come forth since Ron's edge is temporarily gone.

Kim and Lynn are flush with resources as Ed seems to have another puzzle piece to use against her former BF...

Oy.

CB73

_**Losing the MMP is surely a game changer but remember Ron was still a force to be reckoned with before he got the blue glow—no, seriously! Stop laughing… R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 54/12 . chapter 17_

Excellent chapter, showing the effect the MMP (and it's disappearance) had on all the girls. Looking forward to the (apparent) re-introduction of Yori, and the results now that MMP influence is gone.

_**Yori? What is this "Yori" you speak of? ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>pbow 54/12 . chapter 17_

I don't know why but I had the urge to start singing a song from "Man From LaMancha" during most of this chapter, escpecially during the first scene with Bonnie.

I can only guess that Motor Ed found either Yori or Mr. Nakasumi in Japan. My only question would be why would Ed know what Yori looks like? He's never encountered her and there probably would be dozen or hundreds of young pregnant Japanese refugees after the tsunami. How would he know exactly whp she is?

It also doesn't make sense that Justine and the Tweeb have captured ALL of the MMP essence. I would think that they only got the Zorpox part of the stuff since that was what was being put out there to effect the girls.

pbow

_**You raise a couple of interesting questions/points—they will be addressed/answered shortly. Though not necessarily in the next chapter… R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 54/12 . chapter 17_

So the gals are coming to their senses...finally. I wonder what Anne and Joss are gonna think.

I wonder WHO the mullet headed moron found? Is he a lucky ba****** or what?

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**The question is—which senses are they coming to? ;-) Ah, Anne & Joss: what a complicated conundrum! Let's hope I can get them sorted out before Kim shows up! R~13**_

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><p><em>jagaer 56/12 . chapter 17_

I have enjoyed your rewrite. It looks like Yori has been found. The Ron you have created will go back to his wife. The whole thing will fall apart if she is alive - a baby on the other hand would create a great deal more conflict in the group and would allow further development of Ron. I like the hare, idea but the girls need potential of a payoff to make it work.

Ron's got to be available to make that idea work. You may be headed somewhere else so these thoughts would be irrelevant.

_**You're right! Yori or a baby would certainly complicate matters. Yori AND a baby even more so! It's a good thing I like to keep things simple and uncomplicated… (heh) R~13**_

_**As for the rest of you lurkers, please feel free to de-cloak and let me know that you're still along for the ride. Don't make me kill off someone you like just to make it happen… **_

_**Though that would make things somewhat less complicated! (Unless you believe Larry and his Zelda conspiracy theories…) R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 83/13 . chapter 17 _

"You know what PT Barnum said, 'There's a Cowlishaw and a Mariotti born every minute.' You guys are fools!"- Bill Plaschke

Right, too long of a review, must remember to keep it short or try to keep it brief. The Mouse House? A play on of the House of Mouse I suppose. To borrow and paraphrase from the fic "Summer Gone Ron" I'm surprised that Bonnie didn't show up at Ron's wearing a leash and collar when she learned how much of a hero and how wealthy he is, actually or any of the other girls. Or is it reliebef

I wonder if Ron is like Newman: an enigma, a mystery wrapped in a Twinkie. "Finding out that Ron's house" or "Finding out the Stoppable house". Here's a quote that best fits the henchman that Elle knocked out, "Sssmmookkiiinnn!" (Courtesy of the Mask) Finally: I don't think the Mystical Monkey Power is truly gone, it's probably dormant and hidden away somewhere.

Keep up the good work.

**_Ron is more like an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in Naco grande. I liked "The Mask" and thought that Cher was very good in it. Oh wait, you mean that other movie... And the MMP is trapped in a magnetic bottle in the basement of the Possible home as documented at the end of Chapter 16. R~13_**

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><p><em>Harbinger Of Kaos 83/13 . chapter 17_

So why did the twins and Flanner steal Ron's MMP and when will they realize they need to give it back or else they are ALL screwed?

**_As to why? The answer lies back in Chapters 4 & 5. When? They don't know what the consequences will be so... R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 96/13 . chapter 17 _

So...I was completely and utterly wrong. Honestly, I would of preferred if they had just list their libido; but to actually lose(?) their emotions for him! That's just wrongsick. Especially Bonnie and Shego, who were quickly becoming two more of my favorites (Tara and Yori already being at the top).

And please don't tell me they found Yori before Ron!

**_Sorry, Dude; there's a reason that the villains are called "bad" guys. Expect bad things to happen. (And even worse things before we're finally at the end). R~1__3_**


	18. Rivals' Arrivals

**Authors/Notes: ****_First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck with me this far—through the grim and very off-putting first chapter of the RSVP Saga, through the reformatting exercises, the re-writing and repostings of the various chapters, and the just plain hugeness of the story arcs to slog through! Special kudos to pbow and all of the others who have gone back to the beginning and are working their way through for (at least) the second time! And for all of you who have honored me with author alert and/or favorite story status: thanks! You and the readers who review or PM me, keep me going—especially now that my output has slowed down and I'm juggling multiple writing projects._**

**_(9/9/14) - And triple that now that I'm on this current rewrite/re-edit!_**

**_(9/20/14) - _****_**Sorry for the long delay in posting: vacation, travel, illness, catch-up, computer problems, and work on a different manuscript got in the way. And I went through a little period of enthusiasm withdrawal, as well. I'm trying not to be one of those authors who just suddenly gives out without crossing the finish line, even though it's still a good ways off.**_**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ Hello! This is FanFiction-dot-Net! That means that this is a work of Fan Fiction! All disclaimers apply! (If this was found somewhere else other than then it has been illegally copied—though no financial harm has been done to the author as he receives no remuneration for this work, anyways…)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 18 – Rivals' Arrivals<strong>

The Kingdom of Babastan was anachronism even among the oil-rich principalities of the Middle East. Remote and isolated from the rest of the countries in the region, it had remained a British colony and then a protectorate for over a century until its monarchy (largely interbred with generations of English ex-pats) declared their independence. They maintained their ties, however, with the Western world while using their wealth and resources to transform their cities, dress, and culture into something resembling the _Tales of the Arabian Nights_. Welcoming—even encouraging—the tourist trade, Babastan had become a vacation playground for the famous and the wealthy.

If this wasn't readily apparent from the briefing packets provided on the flight over, it was obvious once the plane had landed and its passengers disembarked.

A fleet of stretch limos awaited them on the tarmac.

Beside each one was a palace servant dressed in what looked like parachute pants with a matching vest. Each wore a traditional turban and curly-toed slippers. Shirtless and bare-chested, the only other article of clothing that they wore was a wide, colorful sash around their waists with a (hopefully) ceremonial sword tucked through its folds.

The limousines were blessedly air-conditioned. Which was fortunate as the temperature outside was well into the triple digits and everyone felt trickles of perspiration start to pop before their luggage was loaded into the trunks.

Everyone was quartered in the palace: the girls in the east wing, the boys in the west wing. Each of the Middleton groups found themselves sharing a single social and sleeping chamber with cushioned couches and divans scattered around a central pool with fountains and waterfalls for bathing or cooling off.

Clothing had been laid out for them. The men found _thobes_ and _dishdashas_ for their apparel. The women found _thobes_ and _abayas_ for theirs. Just as they thought that modesty would be the standing dress code, each was visited by a servant girl dressed like an American-made Hollywood fantasy about Aladdin and sultan's harems and Arabian dancing girls.

"King Al' Wadya Noh, Sultan of the Sands, bids you welcome to his county, his abode, and the _Third Annual Celebrity Golf Among the Dunes_ competition," they announced, each placing her palms together and bowing to the room. "There will be a feast this evening in your honor. I will come for you in three hours. If you require anything before then, just pull the bell-cord by the door and a servant shall attend to your needs." Each servant then bowed again and exited, closing the massive but ornate door as she departed.

Wally Rodigan—formerly Prince Wallace the Third—sighed. "Democracy is all fine and good," he murmured, "but there are times when I miss the perks of being the hereditary successor of a royal monarchy."

"Yeah, and I miss looking good in spandex." Timothy North chimed in as he stripped down to the buff and plopped into one of the hot tubs adjacent to the indoor pool. "But the one constant in life is change. Real life isn't like some TV Show where everything always goes back to the way it was and nobody ever grows old or ever dies. I'm not keen on old age but at least life is never boring."

Dexter, Robby, Ryan, and Nicky-Nick all averted their eyes as the old star of _The Fearless Ferret_ show revealed expanses of wrinkled flesh. Huddling together, they conferred over their roles in helping Team Stoppable.

"So, we got the girls into Babastan and the tournament. Any clues as to what happens next?"

"You mean other than playing golf?"

"Big duh, Bro. I think they've got some sort of plan. Those cheerleaders were reading some sort of secret files on the plane."

"So any ideas as to what's going down or how? Or when?"

"Did you see how happy Britina was when they found her cousin alive?"

"Whoa! Is someone still carrying a torch?"

"Yeah, Nicky. I thought you guys were all yesterday's news two years ago."

"Hey, we're still friends! A guy can care about a friend and her family!"

"If I had a friend staring at me on a flight like you were star—"

"Stuff it, Dex!"

"So, you're really not interested any more?"

"'Course not."

"Then you wouldn't object to me asking her out on a date? What?"

"Dude, there are plenty of cute girls here! Pick one! Or two! Or three!"

"As long as they're not your ex, right?"

"'Sides, I think some of these girls are kind of crushing on that Stoppable guy."

"Not to mention a certain platinum pop star."

"What? No way!"

"Yes, way!"

"I happen to know for a fact that she blew him off several years ago!"

"Like you?"

"And, Nicky, that was like before the guy saved the whole planet!"

"Threw giant alien monsters across the sky like Superman!"

"Well—"

"Well, what?"

"Well, what about Kim Possible?"

"I understand that she was unconscious at the time. Stops did it all on his own."

"No. I mean, aren't they supposed to be together? Even a gorgeous, talented singer like Brit couldn't hope to compete with 'The Girl Who Can Do Anything'."

"Haven't you heard? Kim Possible has disappeared."

"I heard she retired."

"I think she had a nervous breakdown. Couldn't compete with all hotties in the Stoppable Fan Club."

"Y'know, I kinda noticed that this gig was different. Plane full of girls, exotic location, Oh Boyz on a platter: where's the groupie goodness?"

"Maybe we should step up our game: make sure we've still got it."

"As long as we don't forget why we're here in the first place."

"Yeah, we're here to help nail the bastard who killed Stops' parents! Even if he is sorta the competition…"

"Don't forget the creep murdered most of Kim's family, too!"

"So…if Stops and Possible aren't exclusive, maybe she'd like to date a musician…"

"Good luck finding her."

"I'll just ask her mother."

"Did you see her mother? I get the feeling that situation is waaaay too complicated right now. Even for a tabloid-experienced, boy-band vet like yourself who has more than a few, morning after, groupie horror stories to tell."

"I've heard different stories from different people."

"Like what?"

"Like the aliens cloned her and took the real Kim back to their planet. Or that she had a psychotic break and murdered that pink pet of Stoppable's. Or that she went on a killing spree before Global Justice took her down and now she's locked up in one of their rubber rooms, wearing a long-sleeved jacket from the Laughing Academy. Or that she got sucked through some inter-dimensional vortex that disrupted the time-stream and is now being erased from everybody's memory, starting with Stoppable and her mom."

"Oh man, do you know how crazy any one of those stories sound?"

"I didn't say that I believed any of them. Those are just some of the stories that I heard."

"What? Nobody came up with one where she turns evil and is now hiding in some secret lair, plotting to take over the world?"

"Now who's totally into the conspiracy zone?"

"Just trying to top you for ridiculousness."

"Guys, guys, let's get practical, here. We should talk to this girl named Bonnie. I understand that she's in charge of this operation."

"Maybe we can pull her aside at the dinner tonight and do some brain-storming."

"Brain-storming?"

"You know, come up with a plan. Offer some advice…what? We agreed to help, didn't we?"

"Dex has a point. They are, after all, just girls. They're probably just lying around by the pool right now, filing their nails and wondering what to wear. We'll probably have to scope out the situation tomorrow on the golf course and give them some instructions as to how they can help after lights out tomorrow night…"

**RSVP**

The girls had changed into their swimsuits and were gathered around the pool in their quarters.

They were not, however, filing their nails nor were they relaxing—even though they were rubbing each other down with copious amounts of baby oil.

"Remember to keep your shoulders dry," Bonnie instructed the others. "We want to be slippery enough to fit through the air ducts, but we don't want anyone to slip off anyone else's shoulders during the pyramid phase. Also make sure that your hands get dried as well."

Vivian pulled fifty feet of high-tensile line from her luggage and looped it over her neck and shoulder. "This should be more than enough," she told the teal-eyed brunette.

"Yeah." Bonnie turned to Tara. "What do you think, T? Fifteen feet?"

The platinum blonde looked up at the vent in the wall near the ceiling and used her internal cheer routine calculator. "Closer to twenty, I'd say."

"Then we'll rethink the whole structure." Turning to the others, she held her cell phone aloft. "Ladies? Cell phones at the ready!" The others all held their phones up. "Ringers silent, set to vibrate." Adjustments were made and double-checked. "Bluetooth activated; insert earpieces." Bonnie began punching in numbers. "Switch to 'Party Line' mode and sound off." Eleven voices announced their connection. "Secure your communication devices," she finished as she tucked her cell phone into her bikini top. "And be careful: I don't want any boob-dialing during reconnaissance. Let's get into position…" She herded Amelia, Heather, Britina, and MC Honey over to the wall and arranged them in a line beneath the vent. "Spread your legs like so…the outsides of your feet should be touching the girl's next to you…good!"

Tara passed the rope from Vivian to Bonnie and helped position her between Maggie and Linda as Bonnie assisted the second tier of girls to mount the shoulders of the non-cheerleaders forming the base of the pyramid. Things were a little wobbly at first but quickly stabilized and Marcella and Hope were able to scramble up to pair up as the third tier. Crystal got a double boost from Bonnie and Tara to quickly climb to the top where she turned and went to work on the air vent cover.

"Screwed in or loose?" Bonnie called up to her.

"Loose," the dusky-skinned ex-cheerleader called down. "A bit heavy, though. Pass it down or toss it?"

Bonnie considered the pyramid of former Middleton High cheerleaders mixed with slightly unsteady amateurs. "Better toss it—if you can get it away from the group without shaking things at the top." She stepped back and grabbed a coverlet off of one of the couch beds and nodded to Tara. "Can you send it our way?"

Tara took the other end of the fabric and stepped back, pulling it wide like an old fashioned rescue-net.

The pyramid wobbled a bit as Crystal threw the grate their way but the girls steadied themselves and Bonnie and Tara neatly snagged the vent cover, laying it aside without a sound.

Now it was their turn to ascend the pyramid which they both did, quickly and effortlessly.

The air duct was wide enough for an individual but a tight squeeze for two if they attempted to navigate it side-by-side. Fortunately, Bonnie and Tara were lithe and slender enough to manage, the baby oil coating their torsos helping them slip past each other without getting stuck. Tara moved deeper into the duct work to find an anchor point for the rope.

Crystal pulled herself up effortlessly and slid past Bonnie to help Tara at the anchor end. Hope used the rope to assist her short ascent, followed by Marcella. Each moved deeper into the passage to help with the rope. Vivian was next with a little boost from Maggie and Linda, who followed as the cheerleaders above held the line taut.

Those on the bottom weren't quite as in shape as the athletic cheer squad and had the farthest to climb so they were hauled up, one at a time, as the arrivals helped pull on the rope for each one.

At last, all of the girls were in the camped passage, spread out to distribute their weight and afford each other a little breathing room in the claustrophobic space. Bonnie tapped her earpiece. "Sound check," she murmured. "Keep your volume and voices down. ID yourself when you speak and wait for confirmation. Activate your GPS and mapping apps. Tara has point. She'll continue as straight as possible. You know the drill: the next two in line take a side passage as it comes along. Any questions?"

There were none. A dozen oiled-up, bikini-clad bodies began to slither and slide through the palace ductwork in search of their prey.

**RSVP**

"Someone seems a little grumpy," Kim commented as she scanned the waters beneath their hoverpod for the island that went with her GPS display.

"Oh, he's been that way ever since Mastermind had his head shaved," Adrena chortled.

Ed Lipsky ran a meaty hand over his head noting that his hair had lengthened from prickly stubble to 50's nerd-length. "Just not right..." he muttered. "Not even my fault..."

"So, Eddie," Kim continued distractedly as she brought their craft around and descended to thirty feet above the waves. "What were you working on in the motor-pool?"

"Yeah," Adrena chimed in, "what was so special that you couldn't be bothered to come along and support your new boss?"

"It's...a surprise..." the mullet-less mechanic answered slowly.

"Well, obviously it's going to be some kind of vehicle," Kim continued. "So the surprise is...what kind...and for who?"

Motor Ed fretted over how he was going to finish the car for Shego-babe and smuggle it out now that the project had caught Kim's attention. "You...want me ta fix you up with some new wheels, Red?" he asked cautiously.

"Maybe," the former teen heroine said distractedly. The Tweebs did an awesome job tricking out my ride but even with all of the gadgetry, the aquatic capabilities, and short-range flight, it's still a Sloth. A nice-looking, nearly indestructable car...but still a Sloth." She shrugged, moving the hoverpod's steering yoke forward a notch. "Got too much on my mind right now. I'll think about it later and get back to you."

Adrena Lynn turned around in her seat so she could bat her eyes at him in an exaggerated fashion. "I like surprises, Eddie."

_Yeah, Lynn? One of these days I'll give you a big surprise! Only I don't think you'll like it at all!_

But Motor Ed Lipsky wasn't foolish enough to speak his thoughts out loud.

**RSVP**

"DaMont? How's it hangin'? What? Do I know what time it is?" Shego peered blearily at the clock before turning back to the phone. "Oh. Well. Time enough to sleep when we're dead. What? If I were a lady I'd come over there and slap you silly!" She paused as he responded to that last thinly veiled threat. "Yeah? Well, here's another reason I ain't no lady: real ladies don't leave plasma burns when they slap you! Honestly, I'm already regretting calling you and I haven't even offered you the job, yet…"

She listened some more.

"That's more like it. Look, I have some security work that you and the boys might be interested in…that's right, I said 'security work.' Ooohhhh, whassamatter? Doesn't sound badass enough for you? Listen, smartass: it pays better than non-profit work and I'll bet it turns out to be more badass than anything that Global Justice is throwing your way…no…I wouldn't worry about The Princess finding out. Yeah, I heard about the smackdown that little high school girl dealt you and Team Impossible. And I'm offering you the perfect opportunity to get your balls back while making some decent scratch on the side…"

She glanced at the clock again.

"Look, I don't want to get into the details right now…set up a conference call with Cranston and Berman tomorrow and I'll lay it all out for you." She yawned. "I've got to get back to bed…"

**RSVP**

Sensei's hands trembled as he poured the tea into the ceremonial cup. _Old age?_

_Or the transcendent astonishment at what this day's meditation had revealed to him?_

Something like this was unprecedented in the history of the Lotus Blade!

And The Chosen One faced growing dangers now that his powers were diminished and his allies uncertain!

Dare he intervene in any way?

Or should he wait until the portents were more clear?

And what symbolism was to be drawn from his final vision before awakening from his deep meditative trance?

Three strange beasts: a Rabbit-Rhino, a Snake-Cat, and a Dog-Lobster...

Led by a chubby American woman with the face of his former captor, Gorilla-Fist!

_And why did they feel as if they were near by?_

**RSVP**

Another round of chemo brought days of nausea and nights of sweat-soaked sheets.

Some days it seemed like the cure was worse than the cancer.

The old man shook his head: it wasn't really a cure. His oncologist was merely slowing the advance of the disease that would eventually, inevitably, kill him.

To alleviate his misery, he would sit for hours, in the shade of a beach umbrella, wrapped in a wet sheet, staring out at the ocean as a way of distracting himself from the stomach-churning wretchedness produced by the chemical warfare that was waged against his deep-seated tumors. Aside from the nausea, the pain, itself, wasn't really bad, yet, and still could be managed by the narcotics—both legal and illegal—that he had access to.

The physical pain, that is.

There was another kind of pain, however, for which he could find no surcease.

His failure at the grand game of world villainy…

And, more importantly, his failure as a father.

Everyone—a parent, especially—has the deep rooted desire, the need even, to pass on something of themselves before they are done. A legacy—a living legacy—of their knowledge, wisdom, or some aspects of their experience…

Otherwise one's life is but a dead end at the grave.

But his son would be none of these things once he was gone.

Spoiled, vain, selfish, unmotivated, even—dare he even admit it? Yes. No time left for self deception nor delusion: _stupid!_ Not ignorant—not in the sense of being uneducated—but downright dim-witted. How many times had he pondered the possibility that his late, lovely Angelina had been momentarily unfaithful? That the life she had brought forth at the cost of her own was not the true issue of his loins? No! The fault was his! His own failings as a single father. Too much money, too little discipline…

He was paying the price, now. He would die alone, his son languishing in a distant prison, both of them failures, both of them…

A sudden gust of wind blew sand everywhere, blinding him for a moment. When he finally was able to clear his eyes, it was to the sight of an invisible hovercraft de-cloaking on his beach. Was he under attack? The little blip of adrenaline quickly faded as he realized that he didn't really care. He had nothing to live for. Sudden death would be a mercy.

And then the hatch opened.

An unfamiliar blonde woman emerged and looked about before speaking into her wristwatch.

Another woman emerged and began to walk toward him.

She had dark, ebony hair with blood-red highlights. Though he didn't recognize her at first, she seemed very familiar…her posture, her gait, her furrowed brow…

"Señor Senior, Senior," she said in that unmistakable voice. "I'm on my way to Japan and just thought I'd stop off to make you an offer that I think you won't refuse..."

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "Rivals' Arrivals" works for both the scenes where the (former) competition arrives in Babastan and where Kim Possible arrives on Señor Senior, Senior's beach. (Hey, not every title can be a literary mastpiece!)<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2: ****_**Here's a funny thing, and one of the reasons I have to go back to the earlier parts of the story and work forward again (aside from the new plot thread involving Motor Ed): I'd completely forgotten and lost track of Shego's phone call to Team Impossible! Now I just have to remember why I had her call them in the first place. If any of you know, please remind me!**_**

_**Thanks to all who still read and even more to those few, those favored few, who review. Your feedback is cool spring water on a hot summer's day!**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 18<strong>

_CajunBear73 5/25/12 . chapter 18_

Well first off, the Oh Boys are still in their own little world, intruded upon by what they caught up with in the scandal mags. Hope they don't do any 'heavy lifting' here.

The ladies seem to be as potent as any amateur SEAL Team in a bikini and baby oil... But more deadly when the crap hits the fan..

Then Sensei seems to be sensing some really bad stuff coming down, soon, and in his backyard. Then comes how and possibly why. With a Senior twist.

Oh boy.

CB73

_**Oboy, indeed! And for your own safety, please stay behind the yellow line: it's about to get…messy. R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 526/12 . chapter 18_

Charlie's angels meet Ron's Cheerleaders.

Speaking of Sensei Wheres the lotus blade got to it hasnt come up in a while.

_**Good question. Yoshi's disturbing fantasy-life in not meant to be construed as any kind of an answer. But that question will be addressed in a bit… R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 526/12 . chapter 18_

Seems like there are several plans in motion Rippy, but something makes me think it might be a good time for the former side kick to get his MMP back before he gets his arse kicked.

And the boys are in way over their heads aint they. Ya know I don't think anyone has killed them yet.

Here's your chance.

Larry (Sentinel 103)

_**Yeah, MMP and the Lotus Blade would be a good thing for Ron to have right now. I'm afraid our young protagonist will just have to make do with his "screams of courage" for the time being… R~13**_

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><p><em>Some Dude 96/13 . chapter 18 _

NOO! Please don't tell they're going for Yori!?

**_Okay. _****_I won't. _**

**_Tell you, that is. _**

**_:'( _**

**_R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 18 . 920/14_

"Some say that he appears on high value stamps in Sweden, and that he can catch fish with his tongue. All we know is he's called the Stig."

This isn't from any fic. It's actually from the BBC Show called Top Gear. There is a segment where the three presenters turn the car that they have test driven to their tame racing driver. No one knows his identity as he's always seen wearing a racing helmet. Though to be honest, his identity has been revealed at least three times, but no one knows who the current Stig is. Not even the Top Gear guys.

Moving on, I wonder if the O Boys were based off the Backstreet Boys or N'sync or just some random boy band. Finally I shall miss Senor Senior Senior

_**Well Lance Bass and Joey Fatone, formerly of N'Sync, did provide the voices of two of the O Boyz so draw your own conclusions there. And Señor Senior Senior isn't dead and gone, yet, so don't start mourning quite yet... R~13**_


	19. Worlds Apart

**Author's Notes: _Oooooo look! A second repost in less than 24 hours! In the event that things come to a full stop again, _****_I've written an emergency ending, just in case (Ron finds a magic ring that causes everything to go back in time to the end of the fourth season) just so that this won't end up on the slag-heap of unfinished stories here._**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ Those characters not already owned by Disney are the property of Astro Base Go!/Noodle Soup Productions, Inc. I'm just an unpaid cop, directing the traffic between the two._

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><p><strong>Chapter 19 – Worlds Apart<strong>

Duff Killigan made a delicate adjustment to the electronic sensor and checked it against the signal readouts on the remote. Satisfied that it could home in on the tiny signal beacons that he had secreted around the sultan's golf course, he closed the casing and sealed the seam so that the device looked like just another golf ball.

Winning this tournament was crucial and he would do anything to take home the prize money. The death of Mastermind had left him totally exposed: Global Justice was hunting him with a vengeance and demanding extradition rights with every foreign country that might give him shelter.

But the threat of an international law enforcement organization paled in comparison to the threat of a vengeful Ron Stoppable dogging his footsteps.

And there were unsettling rumors that Kim Possible had survived his assassination attempt, as well. Rumors that she was quite mad, now, and gone dark and evil!

_What might she do to the man who had murdered her father and brothers?_

Duff Killigan needed money—lots of it—so he could disappear where no one could find him.

And he needed to do it as soon as possible!

He could already feel his fate closing in on him. Even now it felt as if someone were behind him, staring down at him!

He whirled suddenly, looking about his opulent suite for a hidden assassin.

There was no one.

He had carefully re-arranged the furniture and pinned back the drapes and wall hangings to eliminate any hiding places for a stealthy intruder. He was very careful.

It took only moments to reassure himself that there was no one in the room.

But he still couldn't shake the feeling that someone was staring at him!

**RSVP**

M.C. Honey used the camera in her cell phone to take pictures of Killigan's suite from every angle that she could, given the restrictions of the small, louvered vent in the room's ductwork. She was careful to use the video mode as it was quieter and gave a more complete record of everything that was visible. Then she bookmarked the GPS coordinates and marked it on the mapping app that all of the girls were sharing on their phones.

When she had first been approached to help capture the mad golfer, she had enthusiastically agreed to help smuggle Kim's and Ron's friends into the tournament. She enjoyed a round of golf, owed Team Possible a big favor from the times that they had retrieved her stolen demo tape and then saved her from false imprisonment when she was framed by Camille Leon.

And she had recently been thinking about Kim's sidekick in ways that seemed somewhat disloyal to the debt that she owed the pair. Those unusual feelings seemed to have receded over the past eighteen hours so she couldn't believe that she'd agreed to climb into her swimsuit, oil up, and go crawling through the palace ventilation system like some kind of secret agent…but she had to admit that it was turning out to be fun!

The glam life of a successful rap star was pretty far removed from the hood where she grew up and she missed the adrenaline rush of living on the edge. Maybe if the blond one needed help with any more missions she'd volunteer again…

Signaling that girls that she had found their quarry, she began to softly and carefully wiggle backwards, tracing her path back to their shared quarters.

**RSVP**

She snapped out of a sound sleep, her years of training alerting her to a breach of her security systems and a presence in her bedroom.

Of course the cigarette smoke was a dead giveaway.

"I like the new look," said a low, raspy, oddly familiar voice. "Ya doin' that pilates thing?"

She instinctively reached for the Glock that was secreted beneath the headboard and behind the mattress.

It wasn't there.

"You'll get it back before I leave," the hauntingly unique voice said.

_Steve Barkin? What was Team Possible's former vice principal doing in her bedroom?_

The head of Global Justice rolled over and sat up slowly.

The orange glow from the end of the cigarette revealed a shadowy figure sitting in a chair near the foot of her bed. His muscular upper body was out of proportion to his legs and lower physique. The nose was longer and more like the blade of an axe than that of an ex-prizefighter. And the mullet! Surely Motor Ed Lipsky would weep with envy at its sight.

"Brock," she breathed, somewhere between a gasp and a curse. "Brock Samson!"

"Beth," he nodded, taking another drag on his cigarette. "You getting' up or are ya waitin' for me to join you?"

**RSVP**

Kyoko Yoshiko sat up with a start.

She had been dreaming about…what?

Whatever it was…it was gone. It was as if she had rapidly exited a deep and dreamless sleep-state.

She glanced at her bedside clock. The glowing red numerals proclaimed that it was just after three in the morning.

Closing her eyes with a sigh, she laid back down. Hana was an early riser and two more hours of sleep would be crucial for the energy she needed to keep up with the little toddler until she went down again for her afternoon nap.

But sleep did not immediately return and Yoshi tossed and turned, trying to find a more relaxing position in her rumpled bed. Another twenty minutes dragged by and it became apparent that the problem wasn't so much a matter of external comfort as internal tension. The former deep-cover operative considered a list of meditation techniques…

…and then contemplated the multi-functional vibrator in her nightstand drawer. Perhaps a little intimate "massage" while revisiting her "Barbarian and the Geisha" fantasy…

…or maybe "The Lotus Sheath"?

And then she felt it: the vaguest whisper of a breeze.

Her eyes snapped open, again.

**RSVP**

Monique was having a restless night, as well.

She had tried substituting a sleeping pill for her pain medication but it had only bought her a scant four hours or so of tossing and turning before she gave up and reached for the prescription bottle by her bed.

That was an hour ago and, while her physical discomfort had diminished, her emotional disquiet had her wide awake and across the room.

She wished that she could tuck her legs under her as she sat by the window and gazed out at the moon. The doctors had told her that she would need physical therapy once the cast came off and, even then, she might not enjoy full flexibility for some time to come.

_If ever_, their eyes had suggested.

But her thoughts weren't really on her physical discomfort or the outlook for her potential recovery. Instead she struggled with the question of her relationship with Ron Stoppable.

Even before Kim and Ron became a couple—as in hand-holding, lip-smacking, GF/BF stuff—Ron had always been Kim's. Mon had picked up on that from Day One. Even before the feisty redhead had begun to realize that her feelings for the freckled blond one might run deeper than childhood playmate/mission partner/best buddy…even when she had taken him for granted/chased boys in front of him/squirmed with embarrassment over his essential Ronness—it was obvious that there was a giant post-it note stuck to his forehead that said: _Property of Kim Possible / Lookie but no Touchie!_

Zita had kick-started the process.

Up until the moment that the little Hispanic hottie had hooked up with Ron, the idea of her mission partner ending up in the arms of another woman had seemed inconceivable. Clearly, anything was possible for a Stoppable, too.

The whole Tara-crush ish didn't really count because the platinum blonde was crushing from afar and Ron was totally oblivious. Even after Z had sampled a little Ronshine, the two BFFs continued to engage in mutual denial for so long. So so, soooo long!

It was Yori who got Kim jellin, though.

One could see why. Pretty, exotic, and Kim's equal, at the very least, when it came to butt-kicking, she had one huge advantage over her slowly awakening rival: she laughed at his jokes (even when he wasn't joking) and showed him enormous respect, venerating him as The Chosen One, all the while Kim was treating the Monkey Master like some idiot cousin.

It wasn't shocking that Ron had sought comfort in the lovely ninja's arms. It would have been shocking if he hadn't.

But Yori was gone, now.

And Kim was still missing.

And, ever since his return to Middleton, it was as if open season had been declared on the rich, young, world-saving, grieving widower by every woman who knew him!

Except they didn't.

_Know_ him, that is.

Not like she did.

They hadn't shared a lunch table in the Middleton High cafeteria, a booth in the local Bueno Nacho with him, for hundreds of meals.

Engaged in endless debates with him over the minutiae of the Pain King / Steel Toe rivalry and the multi-layered social relevance to be found in the microcosm of professional wrestling.

Played hundreds of games of Zombie Mayhem, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip with him as her undead-slaughtering mission partner while Kim rolled her eyes and mocked the two of them for their shared interests in the unusual and socially unfashionable.

Any other girl would have wondered if she should worry over her BF/BF's involvement with a "friend" who seemed more simpatico to him than herself. Monique had often wondered if it was just a matter of believing that she would never make a move on Kim's "property"—which she wouldn't. But she had come to see that the redhead was incredibly myopic when it came to seeing Ron as "Potential Boy" in its most obvious manifestation: the Stealth Hottie!

Monique had found herself opening up to those regular doses of Ronshine. Had seen the quiet courage and steadfastness behind the amiable and often goofy persona that blinded others to what a treasure Kim really had.

But Monique was nothing if not loyal to her _female_ best friend. Even when Kim dissed him, ditched him, disrespected him, ignored him, scolded and mocked him and used the phrase "potential boy" as put-down more than praise.

She had obeyed the cardinal rule of female friends: all boyfriends—past, present, or future—of your best friend are forever off-limits.

_Except…_

Kim was gone.

Perhaps for good.

Ron seemed to have no memory of his former BF/BF and had married her Asian "rival".

While the details were lacking, what _was_ known was that he and Kim had parted company under extremely traumatic circumstances and it had been soul-wrenching enough to drive him into the arms of Kim's greatest competition. A woman, it was rumored, that he had married and fathered a child with—before both were lost in that awful tsunami, last year.

_What had Kim done?_

Perhaps that was unfair. All that she had to go on was some of Kim's past behaviors when her "Kimness" got the better of her. When she treated Ron like the lapdog that Bitch Bonnie was always accusing him of being. Funny, wasn't it: Rockwaller seemed to be insulting Ron for his devotion but it was Kim who often disrespected him by giving him the lapdog treatment.

_Wait…_

Had Kim _really_ been that bad? Or was she trying to justify her own options as she considered Ron's new status and what it meant in Kim's absence?

Just a week ago she'd been madly crushing on the boy like all of the others. And why not? He'd rescued her from her financial woes like a knight in shining armor. They had a long history together as friends _without_ benefits.

Why not _with_?

But, while she had long harbored tender feelings for the blond boy (now a man), there had been a special intensity that had mirrored the suddenly lustful machinations of the others.

Had she fallen under the influence of that mysterious monkey mojo? Were the feelings she felt not truly her own? That jungle dream—so vivid and erotic—had pushed her libido over the edge!

And then…

…the intensity seemed to…

…lessen…

Had her mind and heart been played with?

Before leaving, some of the other girls had given indications of…what?

Waking up from a dream?

A very erotic, lust-inducing dream?

Her head seemed clearer, now. As if she had been under the influence of…something. And it had passed.

Or lessened, at least.

Because she still didn't feel unburdened of some of those…feelings.

Was that because the…influence…whatever it was…had diminished but not departed?

Or was it because those feelings had accumulated over the past four years and were well in place before the recent turn of events?

She didn't know if she could trust her feelings at this point.

Or herself.

Or him.

Even if he had influenced her feelings unconsciously, how could she know that it wouldn't happen again?

Monique sighed and watched the moon slide down toward the peaks of the Rockies to the west.

What would happen if Kim Possible returned?

What would Ron do?

Even if she had a chance with him and took it, would she just lose out to his childhood friend when (if) she returned?

And then Monique remembered.

Kim had already returned.

Twice!

Neither one had actually been the real Kim but both had been a dress rehearsal for how Ron would react if that day ever did come…

Based on his previous two reactions…he wouldn't.

React like the joyful boyfriend, that is…

**RSVP**

"There!" Bonnie Rockwaller's finger tapped the screen of M.C. Honey's phone, freezing the video playback. Pressing the zoom feature, she enlarged a portion of the freeze-frame, zooming in on the object in Killigan's hands.

"What's he doing?" Amelia asked.

"There's some sort of device inside his golf balls," the black rapper answered. He was working on several of them."

"We already know that he puts bombs in them," Tara observed.

"But these don't look like bombs," Dr. Porter said. "The details are pretty fuzzy at this magnification, but that looks like a gyroscope and that could be a magnetometer…"

"If we can get Killigan out and you in," Bonnie asked the older blonde, "do you think you could figure it out? And either neutralize it or provide a counter-measure?"

"Maybe," Vivian answered, peering at the grainy image. "I'm more concerned about the explody ones."

"Do you think you could defuse those?"

"I've got a better idea…"

They turned and looked at Hope who was juggling five golf balls while playing "Hacky sack" with a sixth.

It's always the quiet ones that blindside you...

**RSVP**

The breeze caressed her naked flesh telling her two things.

One: she was, once again, sleeping in the buff now that the nights were growing warmer.

And, two: _somewhere there was a window open!_

Yoshi flung herself from her bed, heedless of her unclothed state, and rushed about her quarters seeking the unsecured casement. Her bedroom was tight, as was the adjoining bathroom.

_The open window was in the baby's room._

Her panic seemed unwarranted, however: the window was barely raised two inches. Still, the night air could be a hazard for a toddler even as healthy as Hana, so she closed it and turned to check on the little girl.

_The crib was empty!_

**RSVP**

Dr. Director started to pull her robe together and then reconsidered. _Let him look. It's not like he'll be touching them any time soon…_

…_or ever again._

"What do you want, Samson?" she asked as she started the coffeemaker.

"You know what I like, Beth," the professional mercenary said insouciantly, leaning back against the counter.

"The last I heard, so did Molotov Cocktease, Anna Baldavich, Sally Impossible, and Girl Hitler," she smirked.

"Yeah…well…we never agreed to be exclusive," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in a manner eerily reminiscent of Ron Stoppable. "I've heard rumors that you've started seeing someone, as well…"

She shrugged but smiled softly. "Not so much a relationship as a work in progress." Changing the subject, she asked: "So, are you back babysitting the Ventures? Or are they still giving that tattooed pedophile the run of the compound?"

"It's complicated. But related. There's this piece of high tech that was stolen from Venture Industries."

"Do you know who took it?"

"Yeah. Guy calls himself 'The Monarch'. Has a big, floaty base disguised as a—"

"Hive? I'm familiar with butterfly-boy. And his winged minions. I'd love to pit him in a mad, megalomaniac cage-match against our Dr. Drakken…"

Sampson grunted. "Better yet, Shego versus Dr. Girlfriend."

Betty snorted. "Okay. But The Monarch has always been _your_ problem. Why are you coming to me? Getting too old to run a retrieval op, yourself?"

The big man with the blond mullet and the voice that was eerily reminiscent of Steve Barkin lit another cigarette. "Because our intel is that he no longer has it. He sold it to some character that goes by the moniker of 'Mastermind.' Or '_The_ Mastermind'." He shrugged. "Either way that puts it on your radar. Good luck with that."

Dr. Director was running through her own intel as she pulled two mugs down from the cabinets. The info in their folder was pretty sketchy at this point but it had all seemed moot as this Mastermind was supposed to have died last week. "How long ago?" she asked, picking up the coffee pot.

"Two days ago."

"Crap!"

**RSVP**

No time to dress or even grab a robe: the baby was missing! If she had been kidnapped, every second counted: an abductor might still be caught on the premises if she didn't waste precious seconds!

And if Hana had climbed out of the crib on her own—a not unthinkable scenario—she could be just seconds away from taking a fatal tumble down a flight of stairs!

Modesty was so not a consideration in a sitch like this!

On her way to the stairwell, she passed by Ron's room and realized two things.

One: his suite was connected to Hana's room.

And, two: the door to his suite was not fully closed.

She entered quickly and pushed through to his bedroom.

Yoshi had thought to alert Shego to Hana's disappearance but it turned out that she would have wasted precious time going to the security chief's suite: Ron's Chief of Security was here. Slumped in an armchair that had been pulled next to the bed, she was sleeping with her head thrown back and Ron Stoppable's left hand enclosed in her right.

Ron, himself, was still unconscious but the third occupant of the room was very much awake.

Hana stared up at her as she burrowed deeper into the crook of her brother's right arm and clutched at the collar of his pajamas while she sucked on the thumb of her right hand. The three-year-old's expression was an odd mix of contentment and defiance. _Just try and take me away from him_, it seemed to say.

Yoshi sighed, smiled, and, assessing that there was plenty of room, climbed in next to Ron to make a Hana sandwich.

**RSVP**

It was a simple ceremony.

The papers were carefully signed and witnessed.

The tall man in the expensive suit concluded his remarks with the sentence: "I now pronounce you: Kimberly Possible-Senior."

The dying multi-billionaire looked up at his former nemesis and smiled. "You have made this old man very happy, my dear."

Leaning over, she whispered in his ear: "Not as happy as I'm _going_ to make you!"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "Worlds Apart" could refer to Ron and Kim in a physical sense, or an emotional and spiritual reality.<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2:**_** Patrick Warburton does a lot of voice work. Steve Barkin and Brock Samson are just two of the characters sporting his distinctive vocal inflections. If Brock Samson is unfamiliar to you, you're obviously not watching The Venture Brothers on Cartoon Network. (Think "Jonny Quest" on crack!)**_

**A/N 3:**_** A PM from one of my readers suggests that some of you may be unaware that I respond to all of my reviews (sometimes at length, in fact). But you may not know that unless you go back and check as the new reviews (and responses) are added anywhere from 1 day to 4 after chapter is posted and a new review comes in. **_

**A/N 3:**_** It's also been pointed out that those chapters that have been taken down and reposted can be "reviewed" twice (or sometimes more) by a reader (if you reviewed before it was taken down and reposted). Not that I'm desperate enough to ask everybody for two reviews for a chapter...**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 19<strong>

_masterbow 6/24/12 . chapter 19_

wow did not expect that now i have kp/sss images in my head thanks for that

_**I'm sorry; did I not warn everybody back when that I was evil? I AM evil! The question is: Am I as evil as some of you think that I am? R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 624/12 . chapter 19_

Appropriate title.

They are now just about as far apart as they can be.

Can't wait to see if and how you bring them together in the end.

CB73

_**It's turning into a real train wreck, isn't it? And yet, you just can't quite look away. R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 626/12 . chapter 19_

Lemme see the girls are getting close to either getting the daft Scotsman or getting ready to bid some of their members goodbye.

Monique is thinking about Ron and Kim and what the future holds.

And a baby sitter loses and finds Hanna and this time makes sure that the toddler is corraled.

Betts gets some info and some of it scares her.

I wonder if the last part was an evil Kimmie dream? Hey maybe it was real.

ST-103

_**Evil Kimmie? Let's call her Dark kimmie! Dream? No! Nightmare? Certainly for someone… R~13**_

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 84/13 . chapter 19_

My single favorite scene in this entire storyline to date: Brock and Betty, trading jabs.

The rest? Icing on the cake.

**_Ooooh! Gooood! I was afraid that no one was going to get that "Venture Bros." crossover scene. I can never watch Mr. Barkin without hearing Brock Samson...or watch Mister B without hearing the Dr. Venture's (original) bodyguard. And Shego vs. Dr. Girlfriend? OMG! Maybe it will end up as one of the tales in RSVP IV: Tales of the Kimarillion... R~13_**

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><p><em>zafnak 84/13 . chapter 19_

Unless I missed something (and it is entirely possible with a big story like this) Hana is Ron's *adopted* sister, not stepsister... unless you are hinting that Mr Stoppable had a Japanese wife on the side who then turned their daughter over to him and his other wife to raise...

**_Some sources allow the term "step sister" for an adopted sibling but I will concede the point and try to fix all such references as I can find them...or maybe it would be easier to write a flashback where Ron's father is a bigamist with another family he visits on his frequent business trips to Japan..._**

**_Naaaah. R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 84/13 . chapter 19_

"Now eat your mattress."- Eddie  
>"YUM!"- Ed<br>"Excuse me Ed, I believe this is your…good grief man."- Edd  
>"That hit the spot."- Ed<br>"Ed, what have I told you about the needless taxing of one's digestive system."- Edd

Ex-Pats? You mean like Lawyer Malloy, Ty Law, Doug Flutie, Babe Parilli, and Drew Bledsoe, those Ex-Pats. Ahh, Scheherazade. I like Jon Lord's version from the album "Shades of Deep Purple. Of course it's listed under the title "Prelude: Happiness". Was it a "Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown"?

Boob-dialing? Probably just as annoying as butt-calling, just no butt-whistling. (Oops, sorry about that). Maybe Yoshi had a dream about "Conan the Barbarian". Well, there is the saying for when Kim get's married "Anything's Possible for a Possible, even if you're a Stoppable." I don't think Ron was every funny when Yori was around. She probably just laughed at his jokes because he's the "Chosen One". The Ventures? Weren't they a popular band back in the 1960s? Had a hit: Walk Don't Run, did the theme song for Hawai'i 5-0.

Hmm, the only movie I saw with Cher was "Tea with Mussolini". Yes that Mask movie, with Jim Carrey, Ben Stein (Of Win Ben Stein's Money, Ferris Bueller and noted economic expert). Oh, right. Well, at least it's not truly gone.

Keep up the good work.

**_Yeah, Mask, 1985, with Cher & Eric Stolz as opposed to The Mask, 1994, with Jim Carrey and introducing Cameron Diaz. Bueller? Bueller? Visine gets the red out... R~13_**

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><p><em>Harbinger Of Kaos84/13 . chapter 19_

Wrongsick is not even enough for that last part!

**_Aaah, you kids: always so squeemish! Keep reading: everyone thinks I'm so awful until-well, until the next more awful thing that happens. R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 97/13 . chapter 19 _

Haha, I think Yoshi forgot she was naked!

**_Maybe. R~13_**


	20. Bride and Prejudice

**Required Disclaimer:**_ Not mine, no rights, no profit._

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><p><strong>Chapter 20 – Bride and Prejudice<strong>

No one familiar with the shallow, vapid, self absorbed scion of the Senior dynasty would have expected prison to have agreed with Junior. After all, the only hair-care products were a bar of soap and a bottle of pine-tar shampoo. The orange, prison onesies were at least four years out of date. And karaoke night notwithstanding, incarceration was a serious speed bump on the road to pop superstardom.

But, in complete defiance of the odds—not to mention the loss of his pampered lifestyle—he was totally and deliriously happy!

And it had all started with his first group shower in the cellblock.

Handsome and ridiculously rich, there had been a parade of women through Junior's life ever since he had hit puberty. The fact that none of his relationships lasted more than a few weeks was generally chalked up to his vain, shallow, self-centeredness. Even Bonnie Rockwaller, hyper-motivated by his looks and wealth, hadn't been able to last more than five months before throwing in the towel.

In Junior's defense, it wasn't so much that he was empty-headed; it was that he _felt_ so empty. All of his life he had been unable to shake the feeling that he was missing something. Perhaps a greater purpose beyond his lifestyle of the rich and outrageous.

In seeking that purpose, he had begun to focus on becoming a pop sensation, thinking that _that_ might draw the missing piece of his happiness to him.

But success, like happiness, had continued to elude him.

That is, until his first communal shower in Cellblock D when he dropped the soap and found that his issues were suddenly "behind" him.

Some convicts would have found this uninvited intrusion into their personal space very unwelcome.

For Junior, however, it was a wondrous epiphany: there was a _reason_ he had always been bored with or disinterested in any and all of the women in his life!

And, at last he understood _what_ he had been missing. And _why_ he felt so empty.

At long last love and happiness were within his reach.

Alas, that happiness was not destined to go unspoiled for more than a few weeks.

On that fateful day, the day that everything changed, Junior's cellmate was worried about his new boyfriend. Despite his impressive physique, Junior was not tough. He was a lover, not a fighter. And naïve enough to find trouble anytime he was out of the older and savvier convict's sight. So, Bruno fretted and stewed as he waited in the exercise yard, wishing that the big Spanish goof would wrap it up quickly and rejoin him by the basketball goal.

When Junior's high-pitched scream reached the outside common area, even the hardened criminals were impressed: the sound had to travel down a quarter-mile of corridor and through three closed doors to reach their ears!

Bruno ran to the outside door and began pounding on the reinforced metal barrier until the yard guards pulled him back. He knew that Junior had been shanked, he just knew it!

And he was right.

Señor Senior, Junior had been stabbed—right in the heart.

But not by a homemade shiv as Bruno feared.

Junior was metaphorically stabbed and gutted by a personal phone call…

**RSVP**

The sultan had promised his honored guests a seven-course dinner that they would never forget. The first course was already unforgettable—and, thankfully, sufficiently filling so that they could skip the rest in order to set the initial plan in motion.

Leaning over to Timothy North, Bonnie whispered: "If you will make our excuses to his royal highness…tell him that we should check on our ailing friends…and that we are feeling the effects of jet-lag, as well…"

The old actor nodded and murmured: "Luck…"

As Bonnie worked her way past the other tournament guests, she patted Tara on the shoulder, noting the earpiece cord that dropped from beneath her platinum locks to snake down to the cell phone hidden inside her robes.

"Keep an open line and let us know the moment Killigan gets up from the—er—table," she said in a low voice. Tara nodded and Bonnie continued on past the others who were seated on cushions on the floor and dining from table-like pieces of furniture that were raised up on shortened legs that put the food barely a foot off of the floor.

Belly dancers shimmied and writhed in the middle of the room and Bonnie had waited until every eye was drawn to the entertainment so that she could make her departure with little notice. Heather, Britina, and MC Honey remained behind to provide celebrity distraction while "the game was afoot." Maggie, Linda, and Marcella followed her out.

The palace corridors were deserted as they made their way back to their quarters to ostensibly check on their "jet-lagged" companions. Once inside their suite, however, it was apparent that Vivian, Hope, Amelia, and Crystal were "feeling much better." They were already up and practically _un_dressed.

"Here," Hope said, handing clothing off to the new arrivals. "I was able to lift these from the laundry room for the harem. You'll have to figure out which fits who the best for yourselves."

"Really, H?" Marcella grumped, holding up a pair of gauzy parachute pants to the light. "It's the next best thing to going naked!"

"The idea is to blend in," Bonnie reminded her as she shed her abaya and began sorting though the fringed and beaded brassieres for one that would work with her cleavage. "And, if necessary, be able to fall back on the old, 'if you can't beat 'em, distract 'em' ploy."

"Ooooo, I like this one!" Amelia gushed as she held up a less-than-adequate bra to her more-than-adequate bosom. "Do you think that Ronnie would approve?"

"Yes," Vivian deadpanned as she adjusted the plasma projectors on her wrists, "he'd probably like the costume, too."

The former Mad Dog cheer squad alternates giggled a bit while Bonnie just rolled her eyes. "Hurry, girls! Heather promised to distract our target, if necessary but let's not put her acting skills to the test if we can help it."

**RSVP**

Shego eased back into consciousness with a "pleasant" progression of sensations akin to sliding though a meat grinder. Her back hurt, her legs were numb, her neck had a serious kink in it, and she was suffering the thousand and one aches and pains that came with spending the night in a chair. The only pleasant sensation was Ron Possible's hand, still cradled in her gentle grasp.

Moaning softly she turned her head on a neck grown rigid from a night spent at an uncomfortable angle, and opened sleep-blurred eyes.

It took a moment to figure out just what she was looking at. The bedclothes rumpled and scrunched down below the waist of an obviously nude Kyoko Yoshiko.

Whose arm was flung over to where her hand rested in Shego's own.

Two thoughts unfolded like morning flowers in the security chief's still awakening mind:

Yoshi had very nice breasts…among other things…

_And Ron Stoppable was gone!_

She leapt from her chair and started to run before her cramped and stiffened leg muscles seized up and sent her sprawling across the carpet, giving her a vicious rug burn.

**RSVP**

Between the hysterics and the weeping, Bruno was barely able to make out one word in three. "Soooo—Kim Possible-Senior? And he didn't warn you ahead of time?"

"Papi said it was all very fast," Junior sobbed. "He said that the warden wouldn't make a special exception to my phone privileges. He said that this _was_ his way of telling me…" He threw himself back down on his bunk, buried his tear-streaked face in the crook of his crossed arms, and kicked his dainty heels.

"Kim Possible-Senior," Bruno mused with a thoughtful expression. "Wait till the other cons find out that she's married now…"

"What?" his cellmate screeched, "No! Papi did not _marry_ her! He _adopted_ her! She is my step-sister, now. At least for the moment. Oh, Bruno! I think my father is planning to disinherit me!"

**RSVP**

"Pretty slick," Adrena Lynn observed as their hoverpod continued on toward Japan. "Getting the old man to adopt you and put his wealth and his vast financial empire at your disposal."

"It was no big," the former teen hero answered as she altered course to avoid a typhoon on their current heading. "Señor Senior Senior's wealth actually bores him. He's long been intrigued with world-class villainy as a hobby. Now that he's dying and he's come to understand that his son has neither a head for business or criminal enterprise. He understands that he will leave no real legacy in terms of his ambitions. I just offered him that opportunity and villainous legacy through my plans for world domination."

Adrena was thoughtful. "So that's why the name change?"

Kim nodded. "As Kim Possible-Senior, it makes transferring control of his assets much simpler and he gets the satisfaction of having his name at the center of a villainous plot of epic proportions. It's a win-win."

The blonde grinned. "Hmmmm, maybe I should kidnap _you_ and hold _you_ for ransom…"

The former redhead nodded without taking her eyes off of the radar screen. "You could _try_. But even in the unlikely chance that you _were_ successful—after years of failure, I might add—I had the lawyer draft a no-ransom clause in the adoption paperwork. And, besides, I'm going to rule the world. Wouldn't you rather have a slice of that big ole pie than a few paltry millions?"

The former extreme stunts star leaned back in her seat, putting her feet up on the console and crossed her arms behind her head. "Kimbo, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship..."

**RSVP**

Feeling quite exposed in their skimpy harem attire, the former Middleton High contingent made their way through the thankfully deserted corridors with a nervous Dr. Vivian Porter in tow. They encountered no resistance until they reached Killigan's quarters: the door was locked.

Bonnie rapped on the wood four times: one long, two short, then a final knock.

Two raps on the other side of the door answered and then the lock clicked to the open position. Bonnie led the others insider where they were greeted by Hope and Crystal who had crawled through the air ducts to let them in.

"Amelia, keep your ear to the door," Bonnie ordered. "Linda, Maggie: assist Vivian with the golf balls. Everyone else, fan out and look for anything that might prove useful."

While Dr. Porter examined the contents of the mad golfer's bag, Bonnie tried to pocket his passport and travel visa. Unfortunately her abbreviated outfit didn't have any pockets so she ended up stuffing them into her piggybank-like cleavage.

Marcella turned up a handgun which provided her with difficulties, as well. Trying to tuck it into the waistband of her filmy harem pants only resulted in them ending up around her ankles—eliciting blushes and unexpected memories of Ron Stoppable's elevator pants for everyone. Bonnie took it from her and tucked it under her already straining bra band between her shoulder blades.

"Well," the blonde scientist announced after a few more minutes, "I've identified the cache of exploding golf balls. And this other set seems to be loaded with some sort of homing device—probably designed to guide them to selected spots on the golf course, possibly by remote control."

"What a cheater!" Crystal sneered.

"We'll exchange these normal balls for Killigan's," Vivian continued, "which will remove any special advantages in the tournament and any deadly attacks when we make our move."

Busy multi-tasking, Bonnie scratched at her left breast through the sequined bra only to realize that her cell phone had slipped down inside the cup and moved to the side. Looking down, she saw that her earpiece had come unplugged.

Worse, the phone was vibrating and probably had been for at least a minute!

"About that," Marcella was saying. "Why don't we grab him tonight instead of waiting until he plays to the ninth hole?"

"Gud question, Lassie!" a Scottish burr announced from the doorway as Bonnie plugged her earpiece back in and pressed answer on her cell.

"Bonnie? Bonnie? Are you there? Can you hear me?" Tara's voice crackled in her ear as she turned. "He's up and moving! He left the dinner over a minute ago and I'm sure he's headed your way!"

_No shit_, Bonnie thought as she turned as looked at Killigan. He was standing in the doorway with his hand over Amelia's mouth and a dagger pointed at the girl's middle.

**RSVP**

She found him down in the big kitchen, whipping up omelets for the construction workers who were putting the finishing touches on the restaurant area. Hana was sitting on the counter with a bowl between her chubby legs, grinding away at an egg "soup" with a small whisk and grinning like a demented hyena.

"Lookin' good there, Han," Ron was telling her as he diced up small mountains of mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and ham. "You're gonna be my number one sous chef in a few years—once you're old enough to play with the stove."

"Stoppable," she said hoarsely.

He looked up at her, standing in the doorway."

"Hey, Shego." His smile turned a little crooked. "Whoa! Somebody needs caffeine! And a shower. Preferably with a tangle-free cream rinse."

"How are you?" she asked in a tremulous voice.

"Feeling bondiggity, Chief," he answered, picking up two more kitchen knives. Suddenly juggling all three, he continued: "Just needed to catch up my sleep. Healing trance takes it out of you, ya know?"

She found herself almost hypnotized by the trio of flashing, ten-inch blades that tumbled in mid-air, going up and coming back down, only to be momentarily caught by their handles and sent spinning upwards again in an intricate cats-cradle of deadly, dancing steel.

"Um," she said, should you be doing that so soon after just waking up?"

"Well, now, that's the thing," he said, as he walked around the island in the middle of the kitchen while the deadly knives continued to tumble in glinting arcs between his hands. "When I woke up this morning, I found that I wasn't alone. It turns out I was sleeping with not one, not two, but _three_ lovely ladies…"

Hana dropped her whisk just long enough to clap her hands and giggle: "Free lady!"

He grinned at his baby sister. "That's right, my little beddy-bye intruder!"

She grinned back and went fishing for her whisk.

"So, as soon as I wake up I find that it's back to juggling, again," he continued. "You'd think that juggling knives is more dangerous than juggling women…but you'd be wrong. And it's only three, right now. What happens when the next woman walks through the door?" He banged his elbow down on the hilt of a knife that was poised on the edge of the counter. It flipped up into the air and was suddenly incorporated into the deadly dance of blades that continued to cycle in and out of his busy hands. "Oh look, I can juggle four. For a little while. Want to see if I can do five? Or six? Or maybe we should just wait until I get tired? Or a little distracted? Because that would seem to be my problem, right now…"

Shego held up her hands. "Hey, _I_ wasn't naked and in bed with you! _I _was just sitting by your bedside, fully clothed, and just happened to fall asleep holding your hand!"

"And that's…" he threw the knives higher into the air, "…what makes you…" he caught the first one as it came back down from a lower trajectory, "…more dangerous…" then the second as it returned, "…than the others…" then the third, spinning around to catch the final knife behind his back.

Hana erupted in another round of applause, dropping her whisk, again. Ron pointed the last knife at his sister, mock scolding: "And don't you be trying this until you're older, little Han! At least till you're four!"

The little Asian girl retrieved the whisk once more and tossed it into the air, sending bits of raw egg everywhere.

"Now who's got egg on their face?" Shego deadpanned.

Ron turned and pointed the knife at her. "Now, there! See? Again: you're the most dangerous one of all!" A small smile slipped out.

"So what do you want me to do, Stoppable? Protect you from all of the scary, inconvenient women in your life? Or just me?"

"Why can't you do both?"

His Chief of Security shook her head. "Uh-uh. One or the other; you can't have both."

He laid three of the knives back down on the counter and went back to work on cutting up the ingredients for the omelets. "Well, can you at least secure the perimeter and make sure no other beautiful women get close to me?"

Shego folded her arms in front of her chest and nodded past his shoulder. "What? You mean like that one?

**RSVP**

The monkey in the cage greedily accepted the banana that was passed through the bars and tore into it as if it was starved.

Which it was.

"I am truly sorry my simian friend," said a cultured voice beyond the cone of light that illuminated the laboratory table. "But your service—and your death serve a greater purpose than you can imagine…"

Only halfway through the treated fruit, the monkey began to stagger. The banana fell from its trembling hands and it began to shake as if it were caught in the throes of a bitterly cold winter storm. Its chest began to heave and it clawed at its throat as its soft brown eyes erupted in rivulets of blood. It fell over, twitched a couple of times, and then was deathly still.

"Hmmm," said the mysterious voice, "Obviously I need to reduce the dosage. But, otherwise, Phase One is ready."

**RSVP**

Two tiny trickles of blood were sliding down Amelia's abdomen. She was sucking in her stomach, trying to keep it as far away from the blade of the dagger as possible but the tip had already broken the skin twice. Killigan angled the knife a little more, placing the tip into the deep well of her navel.

"All o' ye move over ta the far wall," he ordered, "or I'll make the lassie, here, sound like ma bagpipes!"

"Okay, okay! We're moving! C'mon, girls," Bonnie ordered. And she backed away from him, moving to shield Marcella. "Marcy," she murmured, "you might want to adjust my top."

"Huh?" Then she raven-haired Italian saw the gun nestled there. "Oh! Oh, yeah. Damn bras: always need…adjusting…"

As she started to pull the weapon from Bonnie's costume, Killigan shouted: "Stop!"

Startled, Marcella fumbled with and dropped the pistol. It clattered to the floor between Bonnie's feet.

"Ooo my!" the Scotsman crooned. "Sooch clever, clever lasses!" He scowled suddenly. "Kick the gun over here!"

"Back up, Marcy," Bonnie commanded.

"Whut 're ye doin', girrlie?"

"What are you doing, Bonnie?"

"Back up, Marsc!" she ordered again in a stronger tone.

"Don' do any thing stupid, lass!"

"What? Bonnie asked, "Like give you the gun? I'm not _that_ stupid!"

The tip of the knife moved in Amelia's bellybutton and she whimpered. "I'll gut the girl!" Killigan threatened. "I'll open her up like a bag of Haggis!"

"Maybe…" Bonnie allowed.

Amelia gasped.

"And then we kill you dead!" Bonnie continued. "Deader than Ron Stoppable's parents! Deader than Kim Possible's father and brothers! We shoot you until we run out of bullets! Then we take your knife and chop off the only evidence that you might actually be a man, you skirt-wearing, bomb-throwing, piece of shit! And then we'll open you up like a big ole bag of sheep intestines and take turns using you like a port-a-potty!"

"I'll kill her! I really weel!" he shrilled. The dagger moved a bit and Amelia screamed as a new crimson trickle emerged from her umbilicus.

"Yeah, yeah! And then we get to kill you back," Bonnie growled. Only difference is, you'll have to kill her quick while I grab the gun…then we get to kill you real slow!" Bonnie's grin was all teeth and naked ferocity.

"Give me the gun!" he insisted.

"I'm not giving you shit!" she yelled back. "I'm certainly not giving you the means to kill her _and_ us, too! You think I'm really that stupid? _Here's_ the stupid question—or the question, Stupid! I'm gonna reach down and grab that gun in a moment. When I do, you'll either still be here and about to die…or you'll already be out the door and running. Killing your hostage will cost you a few seconds and that's all I need to kneecap you! Don't look surprised, Fat Bastard: I was Middleton's high school marksmanship gold medalist three years running! Your only chance is to drop your hostage and run now. Those three seconds may save your life. Waste them and I waste you!"

"I doo na believe you'll risk yer friend's li—"

"Friend?" Bonnie snorted. "She's not even a cheerleader! Waste the bitch, if you want…" Amelia's eyes grew big as saucers. "…saves me the trouble of hunting down your tartan tush later!" Bonnie took a deep breath and flexed her fingers. "If you're gonna run, run now. Or take a few extra seconds to kill your hostage. Please! I'd like that: makes things simpler for me…"

A moment later everyone was screaming.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "<strong>**Bride and Prejudice", is a play on words from the title of the Jane Austin classic…and also is my final bit of misdirection regarding Kim's name change. It's probably NOT the last time that it will give some people the wrong idea, though.**

**And, really, I know I've thrown you all some major curveballs but did you really think I would have Kim marry Señor Senior Senior? What you must think of me!**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 20<strong>

_Guest 6/30/12 . chapter 20_

Masterbow: Oh thank god but the images still burn. And who is the new beautiful woman in Rons life dun dun durrrr.

_**I could recommend brain-bleach but there are serious side-effects and you'd only have to use it again, later. As to the mysterious beauty? I'll just say that she's someone from Ron's canonical past and they have a little history… R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 630/12 . chapter 20_

OK fun here it seems Rippy, first Duff has a tartan covered tush...ya know I wonder if he's regimental? Oh well not that it really matters...

Lemme see Lil Evil Kimmie is adopted by Senior? Mannnn I though the old fart would try to go out in style. LOL

Oh and Ronnie's awake and feeling a lot better.

ST-103

_**The old man truly wants to go out in style—as the partner of a criminal mastermind who has a real shot at taking over the world. For Señor Senior, Senior, world domination—or, at least the proper execution of the villainous endgame—is way better than sex! R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 630/12 . chapter 20_

Kimmie's little empire just got some major cash flow while Junior gets to walk (or limp) on the wild side... Lynn's getting kind of chummy there, but her worth to the gig is still be figured out...

Ron's gotten his second wind, but those women will be the death of him yet, maybe?

Then Bonnie's counter to Duff's bluff(?) seems to have gone sideways?

CB73

_**Dark Kim is taking her time, building her criminal empire, and the acquisition of resources and cash flow are essential at this stage of the game. Plus, so far, she hasn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, please and thank you! As for Ron, let's hope that he's well rested (and himself): he's always been nimble at running and dodging and being The Distraction. Question is, now that he's the "Major Distraction," can he still run and dodge? R~13**_

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><p><em>Guest 71/12 . chapter 20_

wow who knew bonnie had dirty harry in her but if you got the nerve and barvado us it lol/ jr and kin bro and sis wow she realy id going all evil and whats she going to do in japan go after rons daughter he doesnt know he has wow that realy is evil

AJW1970

_**Agreed! The question to yet be answered is, just how evil is Dark Kim? And what part will Ron play in her villainous machinations? And, more importantly, how evil am I? Mwa-ha-ha! R~13**_

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 1230/12 . chapter 20_

Amongst the most...memorable...lines in modern Anime is one from the classic series 'BoBoBo-Bo-Bo-BoBo' is the most desperate cry:

THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Which is massively hypocritical of the character issuing it, given first, she was apparently the female lead, and second, the series was perfectly logical and coherent in its narrative. Its premise was completely twisted on enough crystal meth to cover the North American landmass, but the storyline was consistent.

I bring this up because the past 20 chapters have had me all but screaming the same thing. And, like 'BoBoBo-Bo-Bo-BoBo' (and a few other series I could mention), I am proven a hypocrit with each new chapter. Every plot twist, every move, every appearance, every single one has proven logical and sensible with each subsequent chapter. This latest move of KP's? Pure genius, and the author had us poor readers (well, this reader anyway) thinking she was pulling something completely different. But then they'd been doing this sort of misdirection since chapter one of book 1.

The conclusion to this chapter? Bon-Bon is downright scary sometimes. Doubtless chapter 21 and forward will just get more crazed. Why do I suspect the Quinn twins will make an appearance sometime soon?

**_Not necessarily "soon"…but plenty more insanity in the meantime… R~13_**

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><p><em>Desert Fox 86/13 . chapter 20 _

"What are you a man or a mouse? Well squeak up."- Cher

Another good chapter. To be honest I felt sorry for Bonnie. She's got parents who aren't always around (kind of like Ron), sisters who are always picking on her, and boyfriends who are about as smart as their shoe size. Bonnie needs someone like Ron, who's not a total dweeb, but isn't dumb so that she's embarrassed by them when she brings them home to meet her parents or generally seen in the public. Kim Possible-Senior. Well, if and when Kim ends up in her right mind, she'll be bringing in a lot of money to Ron's harem.

3 thoughts: 1) which tv competition would Ron appear on: a) Top Chef, b) Food Network's Next Star; 3) Iron Chef. 2) Who would win a cook off? Ron or Harry Potter. 3)Will Ron serve food that's funky and eclectic? (If it's funky, we'll find it.)

I think you mean Clear Eyes. (deadpans) "Wow." Keep up the good work.

_**I think Bonnie brings a lot of baggage to the Ronbon mix. Is she redeemable? Probably...but not easily. Some stories flip her a little too soon in my opinion. Others may think that I have, as well. Most of us change and grow up a lot after high school and most of us would probably love to go back in time and bitchslap our younger selves silly for a lot of immature foolishness that we've left behind us in just a couple of years. I like your comparison of Bonnie's home life to Ron's. Is some kind of serious relationship possible between the two? Hmmmm...we'll have to wait and see. (I'm not quite sure that I've made my mind up yet, either...) As for which cooking show? My vote's for "Mel's Diner". R~13**_

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><p>zafnak 86/13 . chapter 20

You know, not too many authors take the path of actually coming out and saying Junior is gay.  
>The cartoon certainly seemed to hint at it with a trademark wink and grin, but of course they could never outright say so. But everyone who watched that show certainly thought it whenever the Seniors were the Bad Guy du Jour.<p>

And yes, I, like so many others, thought SSS had married Evil Kim. But adopting? I know he's a bad guy, but isn't sort of against the law to adopt someone who still has a parent? Ann Possible isn't dead and the authorities knows this. Unless Evil Kim divorced herself from her mom, when were weren't looking, this could be challenged in court and possibly hold up any plans Evil Kim may have for SSS's fortune.

**_Yeah, I kind of liked the idea that beneath Junior's metrosexual facade (shoot, can't insert proper diacritical markings/symbols while typing directly in edit document) beat the gender oriented heart of a...well, you know... (Not that there's anything wrong with that! But Ronkken? Not so sure...) Anyway, as much as I'd like to see Bonnie get some comeuppance, pairing her with SSJ just seemed cruel and inhuman...going both ways. _**

**_As for the whole "adoption" issue (man, you've called me out on adoption issues twice now, haven't you? S'okay: real writers want to get it write-er right-and since I don't have a Beta, I'm relying on the rest of you)...um...where was I? Oh. As to SSS "adopting" Kim as his "daughter" I think we're safe in considering these characters as indulging in layman's conversations: not strictly accurate in matters of legal termanology but conversational touchstones for explaining what their relationships amount to when what presumably happened was that the old man made her his legal heir and her "adopting" his last name as a hyphenate sealed the deal for him to feel that she was cementing his legacy in her plot to "take over the world". As Kim is 19, now, she can make legal decisions without her mother's involvement (especially since Anne could be considered "non compos mentis"-not to be confused with the mint) and, as long as becoming an heir and altering her name doesn't involve her dissolving familial ties to her mom and maybe not quite vaporized dad, Is that reasonably clear for now? I will come back to this "arrangement" later on to provide clarity of the other characters. R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 97/13 . chapter 20 _

Wait... is Kim going for master sensei? And who the hell dropped into Ron's life now?!

_**No, not Sensei. This would be a much shorter story if she tried that. As for your second question? Next chapter! R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 18 . 920/2014_

"Some say that he appears on high value stamps in Sweden, and that he can catch fish with his tongue. All we know is he's called the Stig."

This isn't from any fic. It's actually from the BBC Show called Top Gear. There is a segment where the three presenters turn the car that they have test driven to their tame racing driver. No one knows his identity as he's always seen wearing a racing helmet. Though to be honest, his identity has been revealed at least three times, but no one knows who the current Stig is. Not even the Top Gear guys.

Moving on, I wonder if the O Boys were based off the Backstreet Boys or N'sync or just some random boy band. Finally I shall miss Senor Senior Senior

_**At least two of the former members of NSYNC, Joey Fatone and Lance Bass, have voiced two members of the O Boyz in the past...**_

_**R~13**_

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><p>BW Lewis chapter 20 . Sep 25<p>

Holy hell, Bonnie has gone crazy!

_**Maybe a little...**_

I can't wait for the next update.

_**Me neither!**_

Is Yori still alive? Like she was in the original version?

_**The answer lies ahead... R~13**_


	21. Harum-Scarum

**Author's Notes****_: I had planned to complete the throw down between Bonnie and Duff in the last chapter but it was running a bit long compared to my other chapters and a Mexican Standoff is always a good place to throw a cliffhanger or a commercial. I've never understood how most scenes like this tend to play out (Oh, I have a hostage so everybody else drop their weapon so I can kill all of you and then kill my hostage!) Unless the hostage-taker is totally irrational, I think you're better off with even odds and can negotiate or deliver a credible threat. Given Bonnie's (apparent) lack of sentimentality, it seemed only natural that she would refuse to back down—which would actually put everybody at risk if she did! _**

**_Did it pay off? _**

**_Or did "the haggis land in the fire" as Lt. Commander Montgomery Scott used to say (in the future)? _**

**_Find out in just a minute! _**

_**Thanks to everyone who's still taking the journey with me! I went back to do some fact checking in an earlier part of the story and it was like, Whoa! We're close to 340,000 words in at this point and still have a ways to go! (No, wait! Come back! You can't quit now! Don't you want to know how it ends? Who survives? Who corners Ron in the Janitor's Closet? Aww…)**_

_**By now, most of you have figured out that we're in the middle of Part 2 of a Three-Part Trilogy: The Fellowship of the Ron, The Two Powers, and The Return of the Kim. **_

_**The point is, if you've been with me this long, you deserve a reward. Story-wise, anyway. So, I'll take your requests—under advisement, anyway. I won't just pad the story out unreasonably or go off track on the core plot. But where there is some wiggle room or it dovetails with what is already planned, I don't see the harm in sticking in a little extra scene or plot point here or there. If this was a 60,000 word story, it would be different but we all know there is a little maneuvering room at this point…**_

_**So, let me know if there is a particular reader request you'd like fulfilled. Within reason and not at odds to the story overall. I know Sentinel103 has been lobbying for Mama Lipsky to come back and, Larry, I'm really thinking hard about that. **_

_**Anyway, thanks for your numbers, reviews, PMs, and list adds. **_

_**(9/27/14) – Sorry for the long wait: my mother died and I've been gone for a week and now there's a lot to catch up on because of it as well as all of the estate and legalese that has to be gone through.**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>_ I have half ownership in two slightly used cats; I have no rights to nor income from Kim Possible or Ron Stoppable. Come to think of it, I get no income from the cats, either…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 21 – Harum-Scarum<strong>

"Give me the gun!" Killigan insisted.

"I'm not giving you shit!" she yelled back. "I'm certainly not giving you the means to kill her _and_ us, too! You think I'm really that stupid? _Here's_ the stupid question—or the question, Stupid! I'm gonna reach down and grab that gun in a moment. When I do, you'll either still be here and about to die…or you'll already be out the door and running. Killing your hostage will cost you a few seconds and that's all I need to kneecap you! Don't look surprised, Fat Bastard: I was Middleton's high school marksmanship gold medalist three years running! Your only chance is to drop your hostage and run now. Those three seconds may save your life. Waste them and I waste you!"

"I doo na believe you'll risk yer friend's li—"

"Friend?" Bonnie snorted. "She's not even a cheerleader! Waste the bitch, if you want…" Amelia's eyes grew big as saucers. "…saves me the trouble of hunting down your tartan tush later!" Bonnie took a deep breath and flexed her fingers. "If you're gonna run, run now. Or take a few extra seconds to kill your hostage. Please! I'd like that: makes things simpler for me…"

_**Blam!**_

A bullet struck the door next to Duff Killigan's head and he flinched, the blade in his hand scoring a light cut to Amelia's midriff and side. She shrieked and jerked back against him, causing him to stumble and drop the knife.

Two more gunshots punctuated the doorway and Bonnie stared down at the gun at her feet.

It hadn't moved.

But Duff did, now, throwing his hostage aside as he glanced over his shoulder. Suddenly, he charged into the room, headed straight for Bonnie like an enraged bull.

Or a frightened one: Bonnie barely had time to dodge out of the way as he ran in a crouch and grabbed for the abandoned firearm.

Vivian slapped the bracelets on her wrists, activating the plasma generators and began counting down the time to the projectors would be fully functional.

As Duff reached the window, he whirled and brought the weapon up. Then cursed and fumbled with it, crying: "Ach, you lying piece of—_the safety was still_—"

At that point, the doorway was crowded with men in sand-colored uniforms, displaying automatic weapons. As Duff turned and jumped out of the window, the others began spraying the room with a hail of bullets.

Everyone started screaming and Killigan jumped through the window in a veritable explosion of glass. Half in a desire to escape this new assault, half unwilling to let their quarry escape, Bonnie screeched the equivalent of a Rebel Yell and followed the Scotsman out the window.

The others were cut down before Vivian's emitters were ready to go but she was finally able to hold the gunmen at bay as she ran across the room and followed Bonnie out the window. The armed men spilled into the room as the blonde scientist's barely concealed derriere disappeared through the palace casement. Two rushed to the window but were driven back by a series of plasma bursts that lit up the opening. The team leader touched the microphone-earpiece at side of his head and began giving instructions to his men on the outside as another man entered the room.

This man was large and imposing, dressed in a black djellaba, and walking with the assistance of a cane. He looked around the room with a frown and then stared down at a trembling Amelia who was pressing her hand to the slow trickle of crimson that leaked from the shallow cut along her middle.

"Sorry, sir," the team leader reported. "The target escaped through the window with two women. The snipers on the roof have both females in their sights but Killigan is in the wind for the moment."

Big Daddy Brotherson considered his options. "We'll have to retreat now before the palace guards and the local authorities make things difficult. Tell the snipers to fall back to the chopper and round up the rest of the squad. I want to be in the air in under fifteen. The hunt will continue another day."

"What about the women?"

"Bring them along. After I get whatever intel that they can provide, I can assess their value as bargaining chips. Otherwise, there's always the black market…"

Amelia and the unconscious girls were quickly bound and gagged, then thrown over the mercenaries' shoulders as Big Daddy Brotherson's hired guns began their fallback to the extraction point.

**RSVP**

Jessica fought against the sedatives that the doctors had given her and tried to sort through the muddled memories in her head.

Liz and her's visit to the Stoppable home and how, in the space of a single heartbeat, the whole world turned white and red and orange!

Her flying through a strange, dark tunnel and landing in a dimly-lit basement with a moaning something in a cage—no—a cage-like bed—a hospital bed!

Her stumbling escape from the strangely familiar house and running through the night darkened streets in search of the Stoppable house, only to discover that it was gone and a small, memorial "park" had taken its place.

And then the questions from the doctors, the police, her parents…

Stories that she had been missing for weeks!

That Liz was still missing!

That Stoppable house had blown up with Ron's parents inside!

That Kim Possible's father and brothers were killed, as well!

And now Kim's mother was standing at the foot of her hospital bed, dressed like Kim in one of her old-style mission outfits. The woman standing next to her, dressed similarly, looked like an older cousin of her former cheer captain.

It was all too much!

With a soft groan, Jessica closed her eyes and drifted off, again.

**RSVP**

"I had no idea that you were a gold medalist in marksmanship," Dr. Porter told the teal-eyed brunette as they worked their way around to one of the palace entrances.

"I'm not. It was a bluff, V. I just needed for that knife-wielding, bomb-throwing, bastard to think that I had the advantage and not him."

"Ohhh. Weren't you taking an awful risk?"

"The way I see it, handing a gun to a murderer who only has a knife is the real, risky move." They rounded a corner and were met by a veritable mob: the sultan, palace guards, servants, and worried members of their own party.

Vivian turned to Bonnie as agitated group approached and murmured, "Well, mission leader; looks like you got some 'splainin' to do!"

**RSVP**

"So what do you want me to do, Stoppable?" Shego smirked. "Protect you from all of the scary, inconvenient women in your life? Or just me?"

"Why can't you do both?" he shot back as he finished juggling the four kitchen knives with a symbolic flourish.

His Chief of Security shook her head. "Uh uh. One or the other; you can't have both."

He laid three of the knives back down on the counter and went back to work on cutting up the ingredients for the omelets. "Well, can you at least secure the perimeter and make sure no other beautiful women get close to me?"

Shego folded her arms in front of her chest and nodded past his shoulder. "What? You mean like that one?"

Ron whirled and saw a pretty blonde with honey-colored hair and startling, blue eyes.

Which eyes were growing wider as she was able to see the chef from the front now. "Ron?" she gasped, "Ron Stoppable?"

He took a step back, stopped, and leaned forward a little to peer more closely at the comely intruder. "Penny?" he asked haltingly. "Penny Lane?"

She hugged her notebook to her chest and nodded with a growing smile.

"I take it you two already know each other," Shego drawled.

Ron nodded back, a smile growing across his face. "Oh, yeah! Penny and I went to Middleton High together. Well, not together-together…but—"

"Ron complemented me on my eyes!" she smiled. That smile broadened into a grin: "And my cans!"

The woman's eyes were spectacular. Shego couldn't rate her "cans" as she held the notebook up in front of her chest. "Reealllly? Ronnie, you dog!"

"What? Ah, no. _No!_" To Shego's _and _Penny's apparent delight, he seemed utterly flustered. "I was hit with a Truth Ray! I had no filter! Had to tell it like it was! I called 'em as I saw 'em!"

"And you liked her cans!" Shego smirked.

The other woman's smile turned cool. "Not the way you're twisting it, _ma'am_…"

_Ooooo, the "ma'am" was carefully weighted as if to call attention to the age difference between them._

"I eventually learned that Ron couldn't help being honest about how beautiful he thought my…_eyes_…were," she continued. "But I'm told that the effects of the Truth Ray had worn off by the next time we ran into each other."

"And that's when he complemented you on your…cans," Shego snarked.

Penny's smile flatlined. "I was collecting cans for the school food drive and he tried to compliment me again but it came out a little awkward."

"_A little_ would be an understatement," Ron said. And then did a double-take: "Heyyyy, wait a minute! That Truth Ray was yours and Drakken's!"

Shego did a double-take. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You guys had kidnapped Dr. Wong and were going to use it to get information on her Top Secret projects."

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"The ice fortress?"

Shego's eyes widened. "Ohhhh, the Ice Fortress!" She suppressed a little shiver and then shook her head. "One of Drakken's little toys. You know me; I don't work with anything but these." She held up her hands and lit them up briefly.

Ron smirked. "What about the 'toys' in the bottom drawer of your dres—"

"Stoppable!" she growled and he smiled, turning back to Penny.

"It's okay," the young woman said. "Your weird complement put me off, at first. But then I realized that you had complemented me for something that I had actually done, not just for an accident of genetics. It caused me to focus on my strengths and interests and led me into my current career. I'm the assistant manager of The Food Chain, Inc. We're a food supplier to restaurants and smaller grocery stores."

"Is that why you're here?" he asked.

"Why yes! Bonnie Rockwaller contacted us and wanted someone to make a presentation to the owner of this restaurant regarding our services and the quality of our stock." She looked about. "Is Ms. Rockwaller around? Or the owner?" Her eyes grew a little wider. "Oh, Ronnie. Do you work here? I'll bet you could introduce me."

Ron grinned. "Yeah. But I got to warn you: this Dean guy is a real piece of work. He'll probably try to get you to have lunch with him before he'll sign any contracts."

She sighed and shook her head. "Sadly, he wouldn't be the first one." She brightened. "Hey, I know! I could tell him that I already have a lunch date! And a dinner date! With you!" She rocked on her heels and twisted back and forth a little. Then her smile faded. "Unless that would get you in trouble. I mean, I'm doing well enough that I don't really need this guy's business but I wouldn't want to put your job at risk. But hey," she smiled again, "he doesn't have to know. Let me treat you to lunch! I have an expense account and I'd love to catch up. Play your cards right and you can probably have dinner on me, as well."

"Yeah, Stoppable," Shego groused, "she really looks quite 'the dish'."

"Well," Ron smiled, "as long as the owner doesn't find out I could probably sneak away…"

"Uh, what about your little juggling metaphor?" his security chief asked as Ron quickly sorted the ham and vegetables for the next round of omelets.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "It ain't juggling if there's only one knife."

**RSVP**

The Oh Boyz, Prince Wallace, and Timothy North had joined the rest of the ladies as Bonnie and Vivian led them all through Killigan's quarters and another retelling of the events that had unfolded barely an hour before.

North pried a waxy lump from the door and held it up. "Good news, Miss Rockwaller. The armed intruders were using paraffin wax bullets."

"What does that mean?" Britina asked.

"They're usually used in police or military training operations or for riot or crowd control situations. They're usually non-lethal—"

"Usually?" Bonnie asked with an arch to both eyebrow and voice.

"Well, with a muzzle velocity of one hundred sixty meters per second, they're certainly going to hurt. But not like a metal-jacketed or lead slug. So your friends are probably alive for the moment."

"But where are they?" Tara wondered. "And why were they taken?"

"And how will we find them?" Bonnie wondered aloud, her fists clenching at her sides.

**RSVP**

As "Mastermind," Zelda Lipsky had proven herself to be a master strategist and a talented manipulator of minions.

Kim Possible, even in Dark-mode, was intelligent and resourceful and, if anything, even more so than her high school, goody-goody teen hero persona of just a year before.

Both had hatched plots that were elegant and nearly foolproof in comparison to anything that Drew Lipsky had ever conceived, much less attempted.

But there were two things that Dr. Drakken actually was that neither so-called Mastermind, old or new, could lay claim to.

First, he was a scientist. And an inventor, to boot.

And, second: he was a certifiable genius. Not just smart, but off the chart, smart!

Though he could sometimes demonstrate an appalling lack of good sense at more than a few key moments.

So, both Kim and his mother had gone to Jack Hench to acquire Attitudinators, not realizing that the man who built all manner of ray-based weapons had the parts scattered through out the lab in this very lair that could be reassembled into a half dozen Attitudinators or more.

And even miniaturized, just as Drakken was adapting now, in the form of a little surprise package that he hoped to deliver soon!

If Kim Possible or her hench-thugs didn't intercept it, first…

**RSVP**

In the medical culture there is a long tradition of nurses not questioning doctors' orders—even the unusual ones. Although that tradition has eroded in the West in recent decades, it is still firmly entrenched in Japanese culture.

And so it was that the nurses on night duty at St. Luke's International Hospital in Tokyo didn't ask too many questions when a pair of unfamiliar specialists came onto their floor with a couple of new orderlies in tow.

They moved down the hallway of the coma ward until one of the orderlies was heard to say (in a high, falsetto voice): "It's this one…"

The three entered the room of an older male patient, only recently identified as M. Nakasumi, the foremost toy developer in the world.

A few minutes later, they emerged, rolling his hospital bed, complete with I.V.s and monitoring equipment, out into the hallway where they turned and began heading for the elevators.

In another room, at the other end of the hall, a young man emerged from a light sleep and the deeper shadows.

He frowned, wondering what had disturbed his uneasy sleep.

The ward was quiet so he paused, extending his senses the way that Sensei had trained him to so many years before.

Nothing.

And then…

A voice. Distant but clearly out of place on the floor. Especially at three a.m.

"Whoa, nurse-babe! Ya don't wanna be takin' that tone with the docs, here. Seriously!"

Hirotaka gently released the limp hand that he had held (once again) for hours, now.

"I'll be right back," he whispered.

But he was wrong.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Besides being the name of a 1965 Elvis Presley movie (coincidentally set in a fictional version of a Middle Eastern kingdom), the phrase "harum-scarum" means reckless, irresponsible, impetuous, or rash. Now who does that sound like?<strong>

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 21<strong>

_Guest 7/5/12 . chapter 21 _

Masterbow: good chapter but penney is going to be mad when the honest guy she likes is revealed to be a liar even if it was for a weird/good reason

**_Could be. The romantic lead in disguise who's keeping a secret (like being wealthy or a_** **_prince or the boss of the company) is an old tradition in romances and romantic comedies. But who knows with women… R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear7375/12 . chapter 21_

Well that was an interesting development with Killigan and Brotherson. Hope the girls can find their compatriots, and in one piece.

Poor Ron, his essential Ronness and randomness is going to get him in trouble again. Truth Ray be darned...

CB73

**Hmmmmm…truth ray…that gives me an idea! R~13**

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><p><em>Sentinel10375/12 . chapter 21_

So it looks like some of the gals might actually make it to a REAL harem. Boy are they lucky. Now I know that Big Daddy is just a cuddly kind of guy who wants to talk 'business' with the skirt wearing fleabag...but it would be worth something to nail him with some 7.62 armor piercing rounds just to get the fat slob to bleed a little...hummmm that's it you're gonna turn this into a little Kimmie slash Big Daddy thing. Good job, I don't think anyone has done that yet...though I could be wrong.

ST-103

**Kimmie will only be doing business with Big Daddy. But I think you'll find that Brotherson bites off a little more than he can chew without Kim's involvement… R~13**

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><p><em>Guest 76/12 . chapter 21_

Masterbow: okay request is for ron to get his wish from Exchange. In the episode "Exchange", when Ron is attacked by the Monkey Ninjas, he complains "Aww Fu-ji, why is it always monkeys? Why can't I ever be attacked by crazed supermodels?"

**_Be very, very careful what you wish for…(rubs hands together with evil expression) R~13_**

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><p><em>Guest 86/13 . chapter 21 _

lol, i cant believe you turned Kim into anna nicole

**_Now all she needs is a pole, some peroxide rinse, and a couple of...what was the rating on this fic, again? Pass the Trimspa, please and thank you!_****_R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox<em> 8/7/13 . chapter 21

"Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes; There beneath the blue suburban skies I sit, and meanwhile back." – Sir J. Paul McCartney

Good chapter. So are the Ring Wraiths going to be making an appearance? No wait, they're busy working for Duo Maxwell aka Shinigami. Hmm, I like Bonnie's attitude in dealing with Duff. A bit like Ziva David. Although I think Ziva would've wasted Duff.

Ahh, your reminding me about Bonnie being redeemable, brings to mind about Shego. The same thing can be said about her. There are some stories that flip Bonnie too soon, and then there are stories that don't flip her at all. I think starting about the time Bonnie enters summer school and moving forward, she takes the time to think about life, particularly her life and her friends, as well as Kim and Ron. It will take some time, but I don't think that at their 10th High School Reunion Bonnie is going to go in there completely as a witch. She probably will be sarcastic and maybe a little cynical but not down right mean.

I don't see her relationship with Junior lasting long. People who frequently write about Bonnie being rotten, I think don't really understand why she is the way she is. I think she might even become friends with Ron and Shego. I think it might take her a bit longer to become friends with Kim.

BTW: I hope Ron rescues his harem. Maybe then they can go see Procol Harum.

**_The problem is, I still haven't figured out the "harem protocols..." R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 99/13 . chapter 21 _

So I guess I was wrong... again. Damn, you really are a master of deception.

**_Maybe...or maybe my readers are just too gullible. C'mon. is there anybody out there that still trusts me? If so...why? R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 21 . Jan 14<em>

Oh my god you might actually kill the cheer squad that's great now we can focus on the interesting characters like shego and Betty and Kim hell at this point Ann too ...cut the grass and raise the flowers. ..A few great flowers are better than a garden full of background ones...love the story when you focus on those character ...I just skip the other stuff and does it seriously take more that 5 to take out Duff ...even in the future it took 3 to take out the robot duff

_**Yeah, but none of these guys are Kim or Ron or Big Wade or the grown-up Tweebs. R~13**_

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><p><em>Guest chapter 21 . 928/14_

Seeing as you so kindly offered to indulge in fan-service, I would be more than happy with a return of the all too briefly featured character Camille Leon. So much potential there... ;)

_**Yes! So much! Why she could appear in almost any scene in any chapter and you wouldn't necessarily know that it was her! Except...that...Aviarius stole her shape-shifting abilities with his crystal staff...which were inherited by Dark Kim when the crystal exploded and part of it lodged in her belly button. Hmmmm. So where is Camille now? Well, those who read further ahead before I started the current round of reposts could tell you...but...wait! I don't want to spoil it for you: keep reading...**_

_**R~13**_


	22. Escapades and Escapes

**Authors/Notes****_: So here's the reader request count, so far:_**

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 1 vote**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 1 vote**_

_**The Return of Camille Leon - 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _The following is another chapter of a larger work of Fan-Fiction utilizing characters from the Kim Possible series. The author receives no remuneration for this work other than the occasional "attaboys" from readers who are tired of watching four seasons of reruns…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 22 – Escapades and Escapes<strong>

"I still can't believe that this is all yours!" Penny Lane gushed, looking around the nearly finished main dining room of Ron's restaurant. "Why aren't you calling it _Chez Ron,_ like you did back when you took over the cafeteria during our sophomore year? Or would that just sound too silly?"

"It would," he said with a smile.

Then how about just: _Ron's_?"

Ron Stoppable shook his head as he studied the sales materials that she had placed before him on the table. "_Ron's_ sounds like a blue collar diner. _Dean's_, on the other hand, is better for a joint that runs the gamut from French cuisine to French fries. One of my friends is pressing me to add Middle Eastern to the menu."

"Sounds eclectic. And ambitious!"

He shrugged. "You know me: 'Never be normal'."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, thinking: _I really don't know you but I'm willing to change that sitch…_

Ron stared intently at the pictures of fresh produce in the presentation notebook for _The Food Chain, Inc_.

_It was interesting,_ he thought, _that he might find his relationship to this "food chain" to be beneficial for a change…_

"May I ask you a direct question and will you answer it truthfully?" he asked.

Penny leaned across the table and chased her smile with a serious expression. "Of course, Ron. I'll even let you shoot me with a Truth ray, if you like."

He grinned at the memory of their last encounter. "Don't have one of those—yet. I'll have to make a note to have Dr. D. whip one up for me." He turned the notebook around. "These pictures…are they for real? I mean, the real food and no photo-shopping? I mean, I ask because a lot of the food pictures and even TV commercials use little tricks to make their products look better than they really are."

"What kind of tricks?" she asked, suddenly realizing that they weren't alone.

When Ron had brought her out into the main dining area to show her the work that was being done on the restaurant, they had been virtually alone—except for the occasional workman passing through to work on a peripheral project. She had been so astonished when he had told her that _Dean's_ was his restaurant and that he was the "difficult boss" that he worked for. And she had been so focused on him and her subsequent presentation that she hadn't noticed the arrival of the others…

There was Monique Jenkins, the former fashion maven and gossip queen of Middleton High, sitting at a nearby table with a pair of crutches and her leg in a cast, propped up on a chair.

It had to be hurting her if the scowl on her face was any indication.

And Zita Flores was loitering in one of the alcoves, looking like she had just received some unpleasant news.

That exotic-looking brunette from the kitchen had disappeared but a beautiful Asian woman had appeared in her place and was now entertaining Ron's little sister at an adjacent table.

"Well, for instance, take ice cream," Ron elaborated. "Those perfect scoops of frozen dairy don't last long under the hot lights traditionally required for television cameras. Don't stay photogenic even at room temperature for very long. For decades the ice cream you'd see in TV commercials—or photographs, for that matter—was really scoops of carefully concocted mashed potatoes."

Her attention shifted back to her potential…client. "Really?"

He nodded. "And coffee? Oil. Has an almost perfect sheen under the right lighting." He waved his hand. "I could go on…"

She nodded, glancing around the room, again. "I could promise you that the photos in our sales materials are one hundred per cent genuine but why not take a little drive with me and see for yourself? One of our warehouses is just a few miles away."

"That sounds like a bondiggity idea, Penny. When's a good time for you?"

"How about right now? I'll drive and we can catch some lunch on the way back."

"Ron-sama," the Asian woman interrupted from the table next door. "Is this wise? You have just awakened from a coma—"

"A coma?" Penny exclaimed.

"Heh, a healing trance, actually," he responded, rubbing the back of his neck. "More like an extra-long power-nap…"

"In any event, Sheila doesn't want you going outside without her," the babysitter finished in a disapproving tone.

"Who's Sheila?" Penny asked.

"My parole officer," Ron answered. "But since she's not here…"

"I'll get her for you," the woman said, getting up and carrying her little charge with her. "Don't leave."

"Who was that?" Penny whispered as the woman left the room.

"My babysitter," Ron muttered, referring to himself more than Hana.

**RSVP**

She was a woman who was accustomed to getting what she wanted.

And most men of a certain age either feared her or wanted her. Often both.

So she was at a bit of a loss as to how to process her current situation.

As fond as she'd become of Ro—wait!

_Fond?_

Was that _really_ the operative term for what she felt?

Shego shook her head and ropes of water burst from her drenched raven tresses and splattered against the stone-tiled enclosure of the spa-quality shower.

Anyway, as for whatever she'd "become" of Ron these past few weeks, she sometimes longed for the good old days when she could deal with his annoying qualities by threatening him with a plasma enema.

Unfortunately, she'd lost all leverage in that department as he could seemingly hijack her plasma powers at will.

And their practice sparring sessions had confirmed that he was more than a match for her now when it came to straight, hand-to-hand.

He didn't have to go all Zorpoxy to out-strategize her. Despite the remnants of his goofball persona, when he was focused, he was scary-smart and intuitive, to boot.

She only had one advantage left to her, she thought, as she ran wet hands down her curvy, soap-slicked torso.

She was a woman.

"A smoking hottie," by even _his_ own admission!

And she knew how to use her assets.

Even fully covered and securely holstered in the confines of her old, harlequin cat-suit, "the girls" had discombobulated many a male (and the occasional female) adversary. The very few who had seen them unfettered in all of their pulchritudinous glory had been effusive in their praise and more than a couple had openly wept.

_Except for Stoppable._

Oh, it wasn't that he didn't appreciate the goods…

…even if what he saw and touched and—well—enthusiastically enjoyed—was only inside the virtual bedroom of their conjoined minds.*

But he remained amazingly, stubbornly resistant to their/her physical charms!

I wasn't that he didn't like her: he did. Maybe a little too much, to his own discomfort—that much she had picked up on during those freakish bouts of intimacy they had unaccountably shared. In fact, the circumstances of this past year had moved them both onto collision courses that had resulted in more than just physical propinquity…

They had become kindred spirits, forged in the aftermath of the Lowardian invasion and horrific events in Japan.

And he wanted her!

She could _feel_ it.

Whether it was a one-night-stand kind of lusting or something deeper, longer, let's-see-where-this-leads-us-and-how-long-it-last s kind of thing—she did not know.

But he was _resisting_ her!

And that was something totally outside of her life-experience.

It flustered and frustrated her and she didn't know what to do.

But, sadly, it made her want him all the more!

_Dammit!_

She picked up her razor and contemplated the miniature "baseball field" at the base of her belly. Time to do some grounds-keeping again, she thought, as she worked the blade in careful downward strokes, removing the outfield and "mowing" the infield down toward the "pitcher's mound." Should she trim it up in some kind of special shape or silhouette? Heart? Delta-vee? Landing strip?

Or should she go all bare? Maybe he liked the young, barely pubescent look…

Well…that wasn't going to work if his eyes drifted above her waist.

But, then, his best buddy for years had been a naked, _hairless_, mole rat.

She grinned, working the razor lower. Yeah, she'd like some of Stoppable's naked "mole rat" herself…

Finishing up, she rubbed her free hand over her newly nude mons and wondered how she could arrange for him to see how clean and smooth everything was.

_Why was he playing hard to get?_

_So __hard__…to get…_

His amnesia regarding Possible was seemingly still intact. But was he feeling shades of guilt or infidelity on some subconscious level?

Or was he simply distracted by the others?

Because there certainly was a lot of distraction available if he was paying any attention at all!

_And double dammit!_

How could she get him to pay more attention to her?

She bent over and began shaving her legs from the ankles up.

As she reached her knees, she heard the outer door open and footsteps approaching the shower area with a determined tread. Her posterior was aimed in his direction so she gave it a little wiggle as he entered the outer chamber.

"Like what you see?" she cooed as his feet left the carpeted area and stepped onto the angled, stone-tiled floor.

"I suppose it might appeal to someone who likes sliced kiwifruit," Yoshi answered drily. "But you might want to get dry and dressed before your boss takes off without medical clearance or adequate security."

Shego's head shot up and she got a face full of shower spray.

Yoshi turned and fled as a cloud of superheated steam began to fill the bathroom!

**RSVP**

Justine laid aside the log print-outs and scowled. "I cannot believe that that blonde cheerleader was extracted while we weren't looking! Worse: she was actually able to escape from this house—from the basement, no less—while she was confused and disoriented! And we didn't even realize it until now!" Then she smiled. "But it proves that not only can we create a fully functional Einstein-Rosen bridge but that a living, breathing human being can pass through it with no apparent harm!"

"How long?" Jim asked.

"Before we can get our dad back?" finished Tim.

"And Ron's parents?" Jim added.

"First things first…" the blonde brainiac responded as she flexed her fingers and began to type on the apparatus keyboard. "The power spike coupled with the cheerleader's retrieval across the temporal paradox has messed with the calibration of the interfaces. It's going to take some time to re-tune the Rosen matrices…" She glanced over at the writing mass of blue energy trapped in the invisible force fields of the Tweebs' magnetic bottle. "How much longer can you keep that stuff trapped and stable?"

"As long as you…"

"…need. We think…"

They answered.

**RSVP**

She swung into the main room of the restaurant wearing a black tracksuit with green piping and toweling her still damp hair.

"You're too late," Monique told her. "Baby boy took off just after Yoshi left to find you."

The towel suddenly flamed up in Shego's clenched fists. "Where did they go?"

"Something about a warehouse/distribution center," Zita chimed in. "Though I'm not sure they'll go there. Ron told her: 'That's the first place they'll come looking for me'."

The irate security chief turned back to Monique. "You're the gossip know-it-all. Who is this woman and what's her connection to Stoppable?"

Monique smirked. "Penelope Lane. Former Middleton High student. Ron complimented her on her eyes after being hit with Drakken's Truth-ray while on a mission with Kim. Got her attention until the truth-effects wore off and he massacred his next encounter with a compliment on gathering the most cans for the school's food drive. That, however, nudged her into her present career path. She represents a food distribution company that services cafes and restaurants. Like this one. Ron was looking at her brochures and sales materials—"

"Wasn't all he was looking at…" Zita said softly with a derisive snort.

"—and wanted to see if the produce really matched the pictures. She offered to show him around—"

"Maybe even see the warehouse…" the Hispanic hottie elaborated in another quiet aside.

"—as well as treat him to an expense-account lunch," Monique continued without missing a beat. "She may just be an old acquaintance who's thrilled to be running into another familiar face from high school. Or a savvy businesswoman who sees an opportunity to close a lucrative account and draw a big commission…"

"Or a potential assassin who hasn't been properly vetted," Shego growled, pulling out her smart phone and hitting speed-dial.

"At least that would be better than the fourth option," Zita grumbled. "What?" she asked as the other two turned to look at her. "If she's some kind of shape-shifter or programmed synthodrone, Ron has a more than adequate track record and a fighting chance. If she's a normal woman who's smitten with him, then he's in trouble." Under her breath she muttered: "We're all in trouble…"

Shego growled and dropped her phone back into her pocket. "He's not answering and none of the tracking devices down in the motor pool are moving. They took her car, didn't they?"

Zita nodded. "Little European sports car. Two-seater. No room for anyone else."

Monique tore a slip of paper from her notepad. "Here's the address of the distribution center. If they don't show up there, maybe someone would know where she'd likely go for lunch."

The former villainess looked at the address and tucked it inside her tracksuit. "Thanks. I'm frankly a little surprised that you're helping me with this—given how you obviously feel about him."

"What?" Zita said, "You mean like she's helping you with Ron?" She shook her head. "Don't you get it?" Her next words were like hammer blows to Shego's heart and guts: "If this Penny Lane is actually interested in our Ronnie, she's much bigger competition than _you_ are!"

"Yeah," Monique agreed, "She's actually nice."

**RSVP**

With Killigan's escape, there was no further purpose to be served by the undercover mission known as Duff Justice.

With no intel on the mad golfer or the location of Big Daddy Brotherson's hostages, Bonnie, Vivian, and Tara boarded the chartered jet and headed back to Middleton. Heather and Britina joined them with Nicky Nick tagging along after Britina like a lost puppy. His band mates stayed behind to play in the tournament, as did Prince Wallace and M.C. Honey. Timothy North elected to stay behind, as well, but begged off the golf competition claiming a flare-up of his arthritis. He privately promised Bonnie that he would use his influence to keep an eye out for any information that might help them find Killigan or the girls and the last they saw of him, he was reclining on silk cushions and being fed dates and sweetmeats by a bevy of harem girl servants.

"Are you all right?" Tara asked as the plane accelerated down the runway and lifted off into the pre-dawn night.

"What a disaster," Bonnie murmured. "I knew there was an element of danger but this has turned into an utter fiasco!"

"Now, B: no one was killed or even seriously hurt…"

"We don't know that. Who knows what horrors Marcella and the others are going through now? Maybe they were only valuable until that Big Poppa guy made their escape. Maybe they're somewhere out in the desert, already dead and buried under the drifting sand. Maybe they're being molested by those goons—playthings for their unholy lusts. Maybe—"

"Maybe you should just try to relax and not let your imagination run wild," Vivian said from the seat directly behind her. "Dr. Director said she has her best agents on this. There are Global Justice outposts throughout the region monitoring all of the chatter that could provide clues as to where Brotherson is headed. They know of a half dozen of his safe houses and operational bases. I'm sure we'll know something soon. Then we act! Until then, we _prepare_. Imagining the worst is counterproductive. We simply must stay positive!"

"Yeah," Bonnie folded her arms defiantly. "Maybe that works for a robot geek like you but I'm not a positive kind of girl! I work best when I'm angry."

"That's not true," Tara whispered. "Your best part is the part that no one hardly ever sees…"

"It's not like I don't have emotions," Vivian argued. "I'm frightened and I'm angry, too! But I have to remember why I'm here…why I took the risks that Team Possible used to take."

"Yeah, I get it: you're here because of _him_. You don't owe any of the rest of us diddly squat!"

"That's not true," Dr. Porter protested. "You're here for the very same reason that I am. And _I_ didn't roll the dice on a kilt-wearing madman holding my friend hostage!"

"Like I said before, Amelia isn't—giving up the gun wouldn't—_ohhh_, what's the use? I've explained all of this before! I just…"

"Need someone to take your frustrations out on? I get it, Bonnie. I'm angry and I'm frightened for them, too. But, as a scientist, I'm trained to put emotion aside when it interferes with problem solving. I'd like to indulge in an emotional tear but I know that it would do any practical good. What's important is to make myself rest so that I'm optimal if we get the word in five minutes or five hours or five days. My mind needs to be clear so that I can strategize as the info comes in. If I want to help _our_ friends, I can't indulge in selfish, unproductive wallowing that will make me less efficient the moment I have the chance to do something. Then I'll vent…once I have that ugly Scotsman's neck between my plasma-powered hands!"

Meanwhile, three rows up and across the aisle, Nicky Nick is holding his former girlfriend's hand and stroking it.

"Jeez, Brit; you look so awesome smokin' hot in that harem outfit! I'd love to do a music video with you in it…"

**RSVP**

"And that's the warehouse and shipping center over there," Penny shouted over the roar of the wind and sports car's engine as they blew past the complex at sixty miles per hour.

"I thought you were going to give me a tour," Ron yelled back as the buildings dwindled in the rear view mirror.

"I will," she hollered, "later. You said your babysitter—or parole officer—or whoever, was going to be hot on our tails. They'll probably go there, first, so we'll come back later. So where shall we go for lunch? It should be someplace that neither you nor I would normally go!"

Ron grinned. "I know just the place!"

**RSVP**

Dr. Drakken glared into the face of Kim Possible and snarled: "You think you're all that, Kim Possible, but you're not!"

The redheaded, former teen hero ducked her head and said, "You're right Dr. Drakken—as usual. What would you like for me to do?"

"Ugh! This isn't going to get all pervy, is it?" Dr. Renton asked. "Because I'm pretty sure the real Kim Possible will kick your ass if she finds out you're getting all Wayne Gacy with her cybertronic doubles."

The cerulean criminal sniffed disdainfully. "Please. Why would I need mechanical gratification when thousands of women all over the planet—legions of supermodels, even—are lining up for the chance to get jiggy with The Big Blue!"

The cybertronics specialist arched an eyebrow and folded her arms in front of her. "Jiggy? Really? When was the last time you were out socially? Nineteen ninety-seven?"

"Nnrg! Don't you have something better to do than stand here and annoy me?"

"Yes!" she yelled. "My son and I want to go home! Now I've done all that you've asked—you and that Mastermind and now this terrible version of Kim Possible! I want to go free! I want to see my son!"

Drakken's face fell and, for the first time in her memory, he looked frightened and vulnerable. "Do you really think that I'm here of my own, free will?" he asked in a lowered voice, glancing around as if in fear of being overheard. "Kim Possible was badass when she was 'good'. Now that she's 'bad', she's terrifying! I don't think that it's a good idea to get all demandy, right now!"

"Look," the strawberry blonde scientist said, "I've helped you create this little army of robots. I'll even keep your secret about that garden thingy of yours. But I am done, now! You can squat here and tremble before her scowly presence. But I am going to find a way to escape!"

Drakken favored her with a sickly grin. "Good luck with that," he smirked.

Their exchange was suddenly interrupted by a collage of sounds: a rumble, whine, static-y, hissing, buzzing sort of cacophony. The air seemed to darken around his fellow hostage…

And, suddenly, she was gone!

The blue (through and through) scientist dropped to his knees and stared at the space his fellow hostage had just occupied.

"Take me with you?" he said in a small voice.

**RSVP**

Shego emerged from The Food Chain, Inc.'s warehouse office and climbed back onto her motorcycle. Nobody had a clue where this Lane woman was or might have gone. Worse, even if the trail hadn't gone cold, she was chasing after Stoppable like she was his mother or some love-starved, stalker chick!

She didn't know which was worse but neither was acceptable.

Strapping on her helmet, she turned the bike around and headed back to the warehouse, wondering how the occasional raindrop was getting past her visor when it was still sunny out.

**RSVP**

The difference between a moodulator and a neural-compliance chip might seem slight in the abstract but, for those under one or the other's influence, the difference was as wide as the Grand Canyon.

One controlled the spectrum of emotions, leaving the wearer with their free will mostly intact but subject to the influence of the specific mood being intensified at any given time.

The other deadened the emotional responses of the wearer across the full spectrum and forced their compliance to the one who controlled the chip, turning them into unwilling but obedient slaves.

Even the rigorous mental disciplines of years of meditation and ninja training were powerless before the neural-compliance chip's mental and moral overrides that held Hirotaka as the unwilling thrall of this transformed Kim Possible.

Adrena Lynn looked at the blinking chip that the former redhead had affixed to the back of the ninja's head. A smile, a hug, and, suddenly, the bemused Asian had found himself a prisoner in his own mind—trapped before the danger had even registered. "So, you're telling me that we now have a serious ninja-henchman as our total slave? Freeeaky!"

Hirotaka gritted his teeth but continued to push the gurney bearing Mr. Nakasumi toward the elevators.

"And some good luck for us, Red," Ed Lipsky added, looking back at the security guards, orderlies, nurses, and doctors that littered the hall behind them. "Maybe you, me, and blondie, here, could'a fought our way outta here but it woulda been messy and taken a long time. Ninjy, here, did it all quick, quiet, and we didn't even have to lift a finger to help 'im!"

Kim Possible stopped suddenly and looked thoughtful.

"Yes," she said slowly. "Hirotaka's presence here was certainly fortunate…" She turned and looked back down the corridor.

"…and, perhaps, a little _too_ coincidental."

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: The definition of an Escapade is "an <strong>**exciting, foolish, or dangerous experience or adventure." If you don't know the definition of Escape, get a dictionary…**

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><p><em><strong>AuthorsNotes 2:**_*** Back in Chapter Five…**

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><p><strong><em>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 22<em>**

CajunBear73 7/31/12 . chapter 22

Some serious divergences taken by so many here.

Can't wait to see how you have them all drift together again.

_**I'm anxious to see how I do it, too! ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 731/12 . chapter 22_

Lemme see where do we start? Are we going to see some pretty girls in the desert with their tongues hanging out? Hummmm that would sure spice things up...hey speaking about spicing things up it looks like Penny plans on doing some of that herself (much to a few girls' annoyance). And Kimmie now has Hirotaka and she has some inspiration, I wonder if she's going to question him why he was at the hospital...then...

ST-103

_**No tongues…at least not yet… ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 731/12 . chapter 22_

Where is Penny taking Ron for lunch somewhere where supermodels hang out?

_**Patience, my son: the supermodels refuse to be rushed (although I almost dropped them in prematurely…) R~13**_

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><p><em>whistlin dixie 93/12 . chapter 22_

Ok I am dying to see this finish I started reading about a week ago and this has become my spare time filler. I read part one and am up to date with two and all I can say is WOW. So much detail to wrap my head around and so little time to get it all. Amazing read so far I'm waiting with bated breath :-)

_**whistlin dixie: Wow, thanks! I can't resist that kind of listener feedback so stand by: it's coming right up!**_

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><p><em>zafnak 87/13 . chapter 22_

Hey, Can I put in a vote for Cousin Larry? I mean, gotta wonder how he's handling the whole "death of my relatives" kind of thing. For all we know, Larry has gone off the deep end and has concocted his own revenge plan against Killigan...

**_I've actually been giving Cousin Larry a great deal of thought. Whether to join the Ronster and give our geeky hero a kindred soul who's not hot for his bod (unless...) or have Dark Kim recruit him for her consigliere of strategy for building an empire. Decisions, decisions..._**

**_Your thoughts? R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 99/13 . chapter 22 _

So what makes this Penny girl more of a threat than Shego? Also, will my worst fear come true? Will Kim find Yori?

**_I think that most of the other girls expect Ron to fall for a "nice" girl. They see Shego as older and having a lot of baggage plus she (at least publically) denies being interested. And is Kim finding Yori your _****_worst_****_ fear? I think you should be afraid of much much more... R~13_**

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 1 . 929/14_

Shego was so incredibly cute at the start. Keep up the good work.

_**More "interesting" Shego scenes await down the road... R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 26 . 104/2014_

Q: How many Romulans does it take to change a light bulb?

A: 151. One to change it and 150 to self-destruct the ship in disgrace.

**_How many Cardassians does it take to change a light bulb? Four. Because...THERE...ARE...FOUR...LIGHTS! R~13_**


	23. Tummy Troubles

**Authors/Notes****_: A series of injuries and family issues, not to mention my day job and the novel-on-the-side that is actually supposed to pay me money when it's done—keep distracting me. But as long as there is reader interest here, I'll keep working toward the eventual, cataclysmic conclusion to the epic, RSVP Tryptic that will literally blow a hole in the space/time continuum!_**

_**Once again, the readers' requests count, so far:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 1 vote**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 1 vote**_

_**The return of Camille Leon - 1 vote**_

_**Any others?**_

_**Thanks to all who read AND review: you keep me focused!**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _It's a sickness. There's no other explanation for this extensive trilogy of fan-fiction because the author does not own the characters or concepts of the Kim Possible universe nor does he receive any compensatory remuneration from this work._

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><p><strong>Chapter 23 – Tummy Troubles<strong>

"Stay here," Dark Kim imperiously commanded Hirotaka, "guard Nakasumi until I return."

"Yes, mistress," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Where are you going?" Adrena Lynn asked.

"I'm curious as to what a Yamanouchi ninja is doing here—seeing as how he obviously wasn't guarding the Toymaker, here."

"Want me to come with you?"

"Nah. You, Squeaky, and Edward keep an eye on our new buddy. He may be obedient but the chip doesn't allow for much in the way of problem-solving skills and things could get hinky before we're out of here."

The blonde cracked her knuckles. "Don't worry. We got it covered…"

"Rena," Kim laid a hand on her arm, "remember: no unnecessary violence. And no killing—under any circumstances."

Adrena gave her the same look she always did when her new leader insisted on a softer approach but then sighed and nodded.

Motor Ed was still checking the growth of his buzz-cut in the reflection on the back of a bedpan as Kim started back up the hospital corridor.

**RSVP**

"You ordered everything to go and then purchased a picnic basket," Penny mused as Ron slipped behind the wheel of her sports car. "So, I take it that we will be picnicking. The only question is…where?"

"Ah, well that's a surprise!" He grinned and gunned the engine.

**RSVP**

Sophia Renton stumbled backwards as the late Mastermind's lab disappeared around her and she was surrounded by a buzzing, humming darkness. The next thing that she knew, she was staggering about in a dimly lit basement, surrounded by shadowy equipment and twinkling electronics. There was a child coming around into her field of vision—two children, in fact—exactly alike. She must be seeing double!

"Dr. Renton," one said.

"Welcome back," said the other.

And then she saw her son's girlfriend smiling at her from an instrument console.

**RSVP**

In her dreams she was still Anne Possible.

Or Anne Credible as she found herself back in college, back in that bar with the other members of the gymnastics team. (As recounted in RSVP I: Chapter 31)

It was that night they had been doing shots-body shots-off of each other and finding their boundaries amid all of their youthful exuberance and new-found freedoms that came with being quasi-adults and away from home and parents for the first real stretch of time.

And, of course, they'd done more than a little of it to tweak the boys!

She remembered that pale young man with the tiny hands and his longish black hair pulled back into a smallish ponytail.

He had been very nice and helpful when she had met him and soooooo shy!

She had taken an odd liking to him almost immediately and felt an odd, protective response to this sweet, sensitive, and painfully awkward young man.

Not that she necessarily thought him to be "boyfriend" material: there was a very real possibility that he was (consciously or unconsciously) gay.

Not that there was anything wrong with that.

But something had happened to her between her third and her fifth drink.

Seeing him there in the bar, looking a little like a lost puppy...and curious if he was straight, gay, or just a little too oblivious...she decided to have a little fun and give him a little thrill. And, if he didn't swing that way, she could give her new friend Lizzie five bucks and consider the matter settled once and for all.

It all came back to her as if she were truly there again: the sights, the sounds, the itchy burn of liquor on her back of her throat.

The feel of the cool surface of the bar against her heated skin where her shirt had rucked up, exposing her lower back.

The warm, serpentine trail of his tongue down her neck, licking the salt for the body shot she was offering and feeling the unanticipated shivers that erupted in paths of gooseflesh in the oddest places.

The surprising chill of the tequila as she tipped it out of the shot glass and into her navel and overflowed across her stomach, forming a shallow pond with a deeper epicenter.

The shock of his mouth on her flesh as she pulled his head down to lap at the fiery liquid before it began to trickle down her sides at the curve of her waist.

Twice he tried to lift his head but she held it down until she was sure that the only moisture on her belly was his saliva.

It felt as if the liquor had seeped lower, beneath the waistband of her hip-huggers and she dipped a hand beneath the denim to swipe at it with her fingers. She made him taste her fingers though she wasn't sure whether the moisture was tequila or sweat or something else.

There was a voice somewhere in the back of her mind that was telling her that this was all a bad idea, but the alcohol had softened and muted these warnings.

And the sensation of his lips and tongue...and even the occasional scrape of his teeth...on her tummy was sending pleasant, electric-like shocks and deliciously squirmy sensations deep into her pelvis and seemed to be tying knots in her nipples.

She was lost in a sea of erotic sensations, her inhibitions drastically lowered by the alcohol she had already consumed and she briefly considered dragging Drew Lipsky back to her dorm room for an even deeper initiation...

...when his lips crashed down on hers as he bit into and sucked the juice from the wedge of lime between her teeth. Before she could pull the deflated husk from her mouth, he had turned and fled, a barely glimpsed bulge seeming to grow in his trousers before he disappeared from sight.

Anne awoke from her nap with a start.

Why had she been dreaming of her (former) arch-foe (who was also younger and not blue), Dr. Drakken, like that?

_And why were her panties so damp?_

**RSVP**

Drew Lipsky awoke from a daydream about the very best moment of his college years-maybe the very best moment of his entire life-and smiled contentedly for a moment.

Then he realized that Kim Possible could return at any moment and, when she did, she would be so incredibly angry that Dr. Renton had escaped her confinement!

Not knowing how much time he had left, he sprang to the workbench, plugged in his soldering gun, uncovered his secret project, and got back to work.

****RSVP****

Maybe wax or paraffin bullets weren't particularly lethal but they did pack a punch and they certainly left one with painful bruises! On top of that, their helicopter extraction from Babastan made for a cold, gut-churning, and miserable ride. And even their subsequent plane ride was uncomfortable due to the zip ties securing their wrists and ankles as well as the gags and blindfolds beneath the stifling cloth sacks that had been thrown over their heads.

Over the long lists of physical discomforts hung the terrifying question as to what was to become of them. The Middleton beauties were far from home, nearly naked in their Persian slave-girl costumes, and helpless captives. The terror each felt was so great that they could barely walk when they arrived at their unknown destination and made to stagger from the transport vehicles into what sounded like some cavernous, warehouse-like building.

_What would happen now?_ each thought. Some sort of rape-party? Would they be shot? Sold to white-slavers?

All thoughts of escape had dwindled as each had tested their bonds during their transport. And, even with their ankles freed so that they could walk the last hundred yards instead of being carried; the presence of the mercenaries all around them, the prodding of their weapons and the rough hands on their arms and shoulders as they were herded toward their fates, removed any hopes of breaking free and making a run for it.

Jostled about, they were made to line up and then the bags were removed from their heads. Drawing a deep breath, free from the stuffy confines of the sacks, they were immediately struck by a new smell…

Perfume!

And now there was a new series of sensations as collars were placed around their necks. The material felt like thin leather or some sort of synthetic composite. There was another sensation, as well: it felt as if there were cool, metal disks on the inner surface, pressing against their skin.

Each gasped as their collars began to tingle, a small electric current prickling at their throats and spreading around their necks.

"That," said a deep, male voice, "is a little demonstration of the properties of your obedience collars. And when I say 'little,' I mean just that. Should you attempt to escape, the shock will be much greater. Should you disobey me—or any member of my staff—the shock will be extremely unpleasant. Should you attempt to remove your collar, the shocks will grow in intensity until you either cease your attempts or pass out from the pain. Do you understand? Nod if you do."

All of the girls nodded, some more emphatically than the rest.

"Good. I'm glad that we understand each other. Now, I am going to have your blindfolds and gags removed. You will neither move nor speak until you are given leave. If you do, it will give me an opportunity to demonstrate the efficiency of your collars."

Hope blinked as her blindfold was removed. At first she was blinded by the light in the room as she had been kept in darkness for what seemed like hours. She barely noticed the gag being lifted from her mouth as she took in her surroundings.

The room was large, opulently furnished, and appeared to be a large entry-hall for some sort of mansion. Fatigue-clad mercenaries stood about, brandishing rifles and staring at her and her companions with expressions that wavered somewhere between menacing and outright leering. Mindful of the vast expanse of abdomen she was displaying, she tried to cover herself a bit more but her bound wrists made that difficult. When she dropped her hands lower and tried squeezing her arms together in front of her, her upper arms pressed against the outsides of her breasts, exaggerating her cleavage. She stopped immediately and hung her head in embarrassment.

Crystal stared at the big man who was dressed a little like a sultan (though he wore no turban nor any kind of head covering). She'd seen his picture when Bonnie was going over the intel on Duff Killigan with them. His name was "Puff Daddy" or "Pimp Daddy" or something. She sincerely hoped the old saying about "the enemy of my enemy" was still true.

"Big Daddy" Brotherson walked up and down the row of former cheerleaders—plus one beauty queen—and considered his prizes. Any one of them would fetch a high price at any of the slave markets in the Third World—even more in some private, European circles. Offering them in various combo-packages, he could retire and live like a king for the rest of his life. That pair on the end, for example: the raven-haired beauties weren't twins or even sisters—one was Asian and the other Hispanic or Mediterranean—but they looked like a matched set and there were buyers who would pay top dollar for a pair like that! The trio at the other end didn't look anything like one another other than the fact that they looked like they had dancer's bodies and moved with the grace of panthers—frightened, zip-tied panthers, at the moment, but still…

He leaned in and studied the dusky-skinned beauty with the sapphire eyes and the wavy cloud of smoke-colored hair. "Are you a dancer?" he inquired softly.

Somehow his soft tone made him seem all the more menacing and Crystal had to swallow before she could answer. "Y-yes."

"Belly dancer?"

Crystal thought about how quickly disposable a hostage might find herself to be and how convincing your captors that you had value—any kind of value—might mean the difference between life and death. "Y-yes," she answered semi-honestly.

The big man took a step back. "Show me."

"N-now? I—I don't have any music. And my hands are tied."

"Just raise your arms and move your belly. I've seen a lot of girlies who think that shaking their hips in a skimpy outfit means they can do a proper oriental dance. Show me that you know how to do more than just shimmy and shake…"

Crystal nodded and closed her eyes, raising her arms above her shoulders, her bound wrists pointing her hands skyward and pressed together like a Balinese temple dancer. Drawing a deep, shaky breath, she took a moment to calm herself and tried to focus on something pleasant—anything to block out the awfulness of her present predicament!

The image came to her easily. It was what she always imagined when she danced these days.

Ron Stoppable.

Sitting, half-reclining, upon a bed of cushions on a raised dais.

Dressed in white robes and smiling down at her.

_Her_ master!

_His_ slave!

She could hear a slow drumbeat begin in her fevered imagination.

Her stomach, clenched for so many hours, relaxed and she felt a different sort of tautness take its place.

Bid Daddy Botherson watched as the girl's stomach seemed to slide toward her pelvis. Then it seemed to double back on itself, rolling toward her midriff. Her entire abdomen began to move—although the tawny beauty still stood motionless. It was as if she were a sculpture carved from hardened cherry wood while her belly was the wine dark sea, its mysterious tides moving in and out as the flesh below her waist rolled back and forth, up and down, crashing against her ribcage like a restless, amber ocean.

The girl was a natural! It took all of his willpower to tear his eyes away and look at the others. "Who else can dance?" he asked hoarsely.

Maggie and Linda looked at each other and Amelia glanced at Crystal.

"Three of these girls are promising students of mine," Crystal answered, trying to bring them under her protection.

"Which ones?" Brotherson asked.

Maggie and Linda raised their hands while Amelia looked to her teacher for confirmation.

That brought the statuesque lovely to the big man's attention. He stepped closer and then walked around her, taking the measure of her height (he had a preference for tall women) and the proportion of her bust to her hips and the long curve of her waist in-between.

"You can dance?" he asked, intrigued.

"I am still learning, my lord," she whimpered.

"Show me," he demanded.

"She's just begun her lessons," Crystal explained as Amelia swiveled her hips and managed a slight belly roll. "But she's shown a great deal of potential!"

Brotherson was only mildly disappointed. While the girl seemed to have only learned some beginner moves, she was still a great beauty. And if she truly possessed the potential her very gifted teacher was promising, then she was truly a find, as well!

He clapped his hands and a small man in dark robes appeared. "Abu! Take these women to their quarters. See that their injuries are treated and that they are bathed and changed. I will dine with them in three hours."

The little man put his hands together and bowed to the big man. He then produced a large, curved dagger from beneath his robes and began to cut the zip-ties from his new charges' wrists.

As he freed Marcella's hands, she sudden lashed out, attempting to wrest the knife from his hands.

But she had barely moved before she dropped to the floor, screaming, her hands fluttering at her throat.

It lasted only ten seconds but for Marcella, the hideous pain seemed endless during that time. It was several minutes before she could stand with assistance and, as she was helped along toward another corridor, their host was clearly heard to say: "I trust there will be no need for any further demonstrations?"

**RSVP**

"Well," Penny said, as Ron unpacked the food and laid it out on the picnic table, "it's been years since I've been to the zoo…_or_…been on a picnic. And I'm pretty sure that I've never done them together…"

"I should warn you," her lunch date said with a smile, "my life's motto is—"

"Never be normal," she chimed in. "I know."

"You remember?"

She smiled at him from across the wooden table. "There's all kinds of things that I remember about a certain, globe-trotting adventurer that I went to high school with."

He looked surprised. "Who? Me?" He shook his head. "Hell, I can hardly remember major chunks of Middleton High and I graduated just last year…" _Globe-trotting adventurer?_

The odd, inexplicable phrase slid away from his questioning thoughts as if magically wished away by mysterious power.

"Well, given the life you've led and the things you've done, it's not surprising that we'd remember more about you than you'd remember about boring, ordinary us!"

He shrugged. "I think you're exaggerating. Besides, we're not here because I'm trying to treat you to lunch in an _exotic_ place. We're here because it's the one place I know where my nosy babysitters won't think to look for me."

"The zoo?"

He shook his head as he poured her a drink from the large thermos. "The _Monkey_ House."

**RSVP**

Kim Possible held her breath, a slow smile spreading across her face. Now she knew how Indiana Jones felt when he beheld the Ark of the Covenant! How James W. Marshall felt when he discovered gold at Sutter's Mill! How Charity felt when she discovered that Danny was the heir to vast fortune on _Agony County_!

Slowly, carefully, she crossed the threshold and quietly made her way across the room.

"Hello," she said softly, as she approached the bed. "It's been a long time, hasn't it? I always wondered when you'd be coming back for him. Even though he told you that _we_ were together, now. Even though he made it clear that you were his _past_ and that I was his _future_…I knew that you wouldn't…_couldn't_…give him up so easily.

"You waited, didn't you? Waited for your chance. Waited for me to look the other way…

"Maybe you thought that we'd have a fight. Lots of couples do: friends, lovers, fiancés, husbands and wives. Thought you'd wait until there was a moment of weakness, a period of vulnerability. Then you'd swoop in and take advantage of that little opening.

"Did you _really_ think that I'd just give him up this time? That I wouldn't fight you with everything I've got? Not that I'd really need to, of course.

"You see, I _know_ him. I've known him for almost all of my life. And he's _always_ been there for me. Even when I was dating _other_ boys, he was slavishly loyal. He's always, _only_, had eyes for me.

"Zita Flores? There was nothing there. To tell the truth, I think he was just using her to practice for the day I started being anything other than a sexless, gal pal for him. Tara King? He totally missed the cues on that one. And then refused to follow up when it was so obvious that she'd drop her current hottie-of-the-month if he'd only ask or even show a little interest. And the Rottweiler? Well, I guess I can hardly fault him for missing _that_ opportunity. The whole school would have been shocked to think that Bitch Bonnie had the hots for my guy—although the clues were there if you paid attention long enough. I think half the cheerleader squad wanted a shot at him at one time or another.

"Fortunately, he was too oblivious and they were too intimidated to even think of going there. Afraid of what his rejection would do to their social standing…or what _I_ would do if they were actually successful.

"You were the exception!

"He actually _noticed_ you and _you_ weren't afraid of me!

"I think I even knew back then that your 'honor' wouldn't be enough to keep you away from him. Certainly not with me being…away…for so long. But I'm _back_, now, and you're just lucky that we're meeting here instead of anywhere else, under any other circumstances.

"Because, if you think karma's a bitch, you've never really been on my bad side until now!"

She suddenly giggled. "Hey, I made a funny: my _bad_ side, now…"

Just as quickly she grew sober once more. "I may have been away for awhile but I'm back, now. And I'm not the same as I was…your basic _average_ girl…

"I've got some debts to pay…some people to straighten out, including a certain, former sidekick…and an entire world to bring to heel. Things are about to get…messy. So take some advice from me, one last time: stay down!

"I'm back, I'm bad, and no one takes what is mine! And with Ron, I've always been first! I'll always be first! Right up until the day he dies! So, you just stay down, Yori! You just lie there and vegetate and get fatter and fat—"

Her eyes grew suddenly wide and her mouth dropped open as she laid her hands on the Asian girl's swollen belly.

Kim's scream raised the hairs on the back of Adrena Lynn's neck, turned Falsetto Jones green with envy, and caused Ed Lipsky to drop his bedpan with an echoing crash.

**RSVP**

"I'm sorry, folks, but we're closing this part of the zoo. You'll have to eat your food someplace else."

Ron and Penny looked up at the zoo attendant who had interrupted their picnic lunch. "Is there a problem, sir?" the former sidekick asked.

"Nothing to worry about, I'm sure," the man said, glancing around. "It's just that some of the monkeys seem to have—er—taken sick. We're quarantining this area just to play it safe. I'm sure you understand…"

At that moment a large shadow fell over the table as Penny turned and looked back at the cages on the outside of the Monkey House. "Come to think of it," she mused, "I haven't heard or seen a single monkey since we got here."

The zoo attendant looked up, past Ron's shoulder, and screamed.

Ron had just enough time to roll out of the way before a giant, furry fist came crashing down on the picnic table, smashing it into so much firewood.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: <strong>**Okay, I finally have a name for this chapter! "Tummy Troubles is a bit of a double entendre, referencing Big Daddy's auditioning of the girls' dancing talents and Kim's discovery of how Yori has once more come between her and Ron while even on the cusp of death...**

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><p><strong><em>AN 3: HEY! Show some appreciation for me reposting with new scenes by leaving a review! (Menacing Voice) Don't make me come to your Facebook page…_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 23<strong>

_CajunBear73 9/5/12 . chapter 23_

Some shocking discoveries at the end there...Kim lays out some of what drives her as she is now, and then, in a moment of crowing triumph it all comes crashing down in her discovery of Yori's 'weight gain'. Bet the ride's going to be rough going home.

And Ron's side trip to the zoo seems to have party crashers. Big hairy, angry party crashers...

And the poor girls with Brotherson...I hope someone can rescue them soon...I don't think Big Daddy's going to keep them just for looks.

_**About to get bumpier all around if I can pull it off… R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 95/12 . chapter 23_

Ah, the chapter for which I've been waiting. Mostly, anyway. I can't wait to see what happens with Yori, and everyone else seems to be in an exciting sitch as well.

Chapter titles:

Monkey Business  
>A Date, with Destiny.<p>

Next Chapter should definitely be, "A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned" - assuming Ron does indeed save Penny.

_**Sorry about the glacial progress of some of the plot threads. I'm working on bringing the disparate storylines into a more harmonious set of parallels. Also, good title selections: I'll probably use one or more in coming chapters! R~13**_

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><p><em>Grin-Grin 95/12 . chapter 23_

"Meet the New Boss, Worse than the Old Boss"

Split it up, or keep it as is.  
>. . . at least it's something . . .<p>

_**Long time no see! Liking the suggestion! R~13**_

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><p><em>Pavelius 96/12 . chapter 23_

Long time not reviewed...

But i am glad that you continue the story ... i hope real life doesnt suck to much..

As for the chapter... nice going and Yori is back! I hope the bellydancer girls wont be in to much trouble...

For the name of the chapter.. how about "Bellies and Baboons"...

Keep it up

Pavel

_**Thanks for dropping by! Your title selection most inspired me for the final title of Chapter 23! R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 96/12 . chapter 23_

Sorry about the 2 reviews it just the first didnt apper for ages so tried again.  
>Dark Kim being scary and Big Daddy is most like going to enjoy a vist from her soon.<br>Well done Ron for thinking of the monkey house.  
>This chapter is called Kill ron as a refernce to the pregant bride in a coma<p>

_**You're right— the whole sitch between Kim, Big Daddy Brotherson, and Ron is going to get rather complicated in the future! Are you saying that Ron looks like Uma Thurman? ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 913/12 . chapter 23_

"Hey that was my lunch you over grown chimp!", Ron shouts rolling away from the yettish like animal.

So Big Daddy has some plans for the gals. And Kimmie has some plans for Yori and realizes that the Asian minx really got to Ron this time and it was no kiss on the cheek. (But I wonder why the former heroine cares about this since she just wants to off Ron.)

ST-103

_**"Yettish"—I like that! I'll use it down the road if you have no objection. And as for Kim's plans for a certain former sidekick? As with all powerful emotions (and magically as well as technologically amped 'tudes), feelings can get complicated. Hey, wait until Dark Kim finds out what's really brewing with all of those ladies just itching to take her place! I've been waiting for someone to raise this question and so I'll drop a couple of hints now…**_

_**First, I don't think I've used the phrase "Evil Kim" to date. It's always "Dark Kim" when I indicate her emotional or moral change or transformation.**_

_**And, while her initial outburst of "bring me the head of Ron Stoppable" seemed fraught with menace, who has she actually hurt so far? I mean, aside from a surprise encounter with her traditional plasma-flinging foe, Jack Hench's security team (bad men working for a bad man), a little negotiating over the villainous pecking order at Mastermind's lair, and Junior's delicate sensibilities by making his old man happy?**_

_**Ahem, so far, that is…**_

_**Well, time will tell, of course. **_

_**And how she treats Yori, Hirotaka, and Nakasumi in the more immediate here and now.**_

_**So stay tuned! R~13**_

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><p><em>Guest 88/13 . chapter 23_

great two chapters cant wait to see more you always leave it where i cant wait for the next installment

**_Thanks! And wait no longer! Here it comes! R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 88/13 . chapter 23_

"I don't know why I bother with this guy he's antisocial, thinks he's Evel Knievel and hardly speaks! Ahhhhhh! Why don't you just give up and stop pretending to be human?"- Duo Maxwell

Good chapters.

**_Thanks! Sorry I don't speak Gundam... R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 99/13 . chapter 23 _

I don't know if you're still counting votes, but I vote for being attacked by supermodels. also, please tell me Ron actually saves Amelia, Crystal, Hope and the rest. And please don't let Kim take. or worse, kill Yori.

**_I've added your vote with the next chapter. As for your other requests, the outcome has already been written and posted. R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 23 . 114/14_

As dark as kim is right now same as Ron their feelings will stay and keep them from going forward but that brings another question ... her ron is gonna a father and she was aware of her treatment to him all this time in the back of her mind what then ...

_**Only time will tell... R~13**_

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 23 . 930/14_

Didn't see the pregnancy. Looking forward to who will save the girls before someone rapes them or worse. Ron is going to have quite a surprise when he finds out that he will be a father.  
>Looking forward to next chapter. Keep up the good work.<p>

_**Pregnant? Oh man, that could be a complication! Maybe Dark Kim could be the baby's stepmom...or Auntie K...raise it to hate it's father and skip the story 20 years ahead to a deadly father & child reunion... (rubs hands together evilly) R~13**_


	24. Chick Chat

**Author's Notes****_: Just a little reminder: If you're reading RSVP: The Two Powers and haven't read RSVP: The Fellowship of the Ron, it is the first part of this (eventual) trilogy and I recommend that you do so. While I have tried to write The Two Powers so that it is understandable to careful readers who may have skipped the first part, you are still missing a lot of backstory that will be germane before we're done. Just sayin'…_**

_**Thank you all for the Follows, Faves, PMs, and Reviews: you keep me coming back when there are distractions all aro—ooooh! Look at that!**_

_**The Winner of the "Name Chapter 23" contest is…no one directly. Although, Pavelius came the closest and inspired me with "Bellies and Baboons." And I definitely need to use A very odd fellow's "A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned" somewhere!**_

_**So, I'll let both of you ask me a secret question about a character or plot thread of your choice and I'll give you the inside scoop**__._

_**In the meantime, you can go back and check out the new title for Chapter 23 and then come back for what happens next!**_

_**Once again, the readers' requests count, so far:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 1 vote**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 2 votes**_

_**The Return of Camille Leon - 1 vote**_

_**No new reader requests to date…**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _(In a heavily sarcastic tone of voice) Oh yeah, I own the rights to Kim Possible: that's why you don't see my name anywhere on the episodes, video games, websites, or merchandise! And that's why the only thing that you do see my name on, relating to the series, is here on the FAN FICTION website! Because, like, that's how the real owners of a Disney franchise roll, you dig?_

_Seriously, how many times (and ways) do I have to keep writing (and re-writing) the disclaimer? I get nothing! Do you understand me? Nothing!_

_(Non-sarcastic voice) Some more reviews would be nice, though…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 24 – Chick Chat<strong>

Ron somersaulted over the collapsing table to tackle Penny out of harm's way.

He succeeded in moving her back and the zookeeper grasped her arm to help but Ron was less successful in eluding the hulking, hirsute, party-crasher: a large, cold hand grasped his ankle and yanked him backwards.

"Oh my God!" the other man said as Ron crashed back against a leathery barrier. "Sweetums! What—? How—? Let him go!"

_Sweetums?_ Ron briefly pondered as he tried to shake off his disorientation. _Who's Sweetums?_

He turned as best he could in the giant, viselike grip and found himself staring at the purple and black chest of an extremely large gorilla! This, alone, should have shocked him but a disconnected part of his brain was fascinated by the odd color combination of the great ape's exposed skin…and the embroidered "Y" that slanted down across his large pectorals to the stem that ran down its strangely concave abdomen.

"Dude," he said, staring up at the gorilla's cloudy, milk-like eyes, "what's with the big 'Y'? You an alumni—alumnus—a former graduate of Yamanouchi?"

The shaggy beast looked down at him and chuffed.

"Aw, man! Your breath stinks, dude! Somebody needs a mint!"

"R-ron," Penny whimpered. "I—I don't think it's his 'breath' that we're smelling…"

"Yeah, well, most monkeys aren't real big in the hygiene department."

"Ape," the attendant said.

"What?"

"Sweetums isn't a monkey, she's a gorilla, ergo, an ape." The pedantic certainty suddenly left his voice. "Was—_was_ an ape."

"Whatever. Ah, Jeez! Did I just pull a "Quinn'?" Ron looked up into the creature's dead, lifeless eyes and said with disturbing cheeriness: "Take your stinking paws off me, you damn, dirty ape!" He looked back at Penny. "I've always wanted to say th—"

Sweetums suddenly hurled Ron to the side and turned to regard the others with its spooky, lifeless eyes.

The blond rolled with the ground's impact and bounced to his feet, trying to not wobble. "Hokay," he said. "I kinda get the whole apes/monkeys difference. But not so clear when you say 'is' and then change it to 'was'."

"Ron," Penny called, scooting backwards on her bottom, "that big 'Y' looks like an autopsy scar!"

"The zoo attendant nodded shakily. "Sweetums died last week. We finished the post mortum a couple of days ago."

"Post mortum?" Ron asked as he took a wobbly step toward the beast in question.

"To find out why she died," the zookeeper finally answered as Ron's expression finally made an impression.

Ron then looked at Penny as he wobbled two more steps.

"A-a post mortum is an autopsy," she offered.

His eyes lit up. "Oh…_school_ words!" His next three steps were a lot less wobbly. He looked back at the zookeeper. "And?"

He shook his head and blanched as the gorilla began to growl and lean forward on its huge knuckles. "We don't who why she died!"

"But she's still dead, right?"

"Definitely!"

"Couldn't the post mortuary thing be wrong?"

The attendant slowly shook his head and began to slowly back away. "No."

"Are you sure?"

The gorilla took a step toward him, then another.

He shrieked a little. "All of her major organs were removed as part of the diagnostic process. The body cavity was empty when the carcass was sewn shut. So, yeah: I'm certain!"

"Coolio!" Ron grinned and the other two looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "What? Just means I don't have to be gentle. Or worry about ending up on PETA's Most Wanted list."

"Ron," Penny moaned, "if she's dead, how are you going to stop her?"

He struck a confident pose. "It's all in having the right tool for the job!" He flung his arm out and opened his hand as if expecting something to magically appear.

Nothing did.

The gorilla glanced at him and then turned away, satisfied that he presented no immediate threat.

Ron closed his eyes for a few seconds and made a face that suggested either a very focused act of concentration…or a severe case of constipation.

"Aw shit," he said as Sweetums began to lumber toward the others, "I'm going to have to do this 'old school'!"

**RSVP**

Bonnie stalked into the warehouse a couple of hours later with Tara, Vivian, and Heather right behind her. Britina was delayed somewhat by Nicky Nick who was carrying her luggage with one hand and tugging at her wrist with the other.

"C'mon, Baby," he pleaded. "Let me book you a hotel room! It'll have room service!"

"I need to see Ron, first," she insisted, determined to drag him along with her if he didn't let go.

He let go, encouraged by a small burst of green plasma between his feet and hers.

Shego was sitting on a bar stool in the main room with her legs crossed and a magazine in one hand while the other was wreathed in a small circle of lime-colored smoke. "S'matter, _Ninny_-Nick? Entitlement issues? The lady has things she'd rather do and you're slowing her down."

The former boy band singer gulped, dropped her suitcase, and backed out the front door.

"Where's Ron," Bonnie demanded, stalking past Shego to circle around behind the bar. She began rummaging beneath the massive oak set for stock that had been delivered early.

"That's what we'd like to know," Monique growled from a nearby table.

"He took off from here nearly four hours ago," Yoshi added as she dandled Hana on her knee.

"Where'd he go?" the former cheerleader co-captain asked as Tara, Vivian, Heather, and Britina bellied up to the bar. She set out four glasses and began to fill them from a cut glass decanter.

"To lunch," Shego answered in clipped tones.

"With his new girlfriend," Zita added in an unhappy voice.

Vivian's eyes narrowed. Heather's and Britina's glasses paused halfway to their lips. Tara slammed down the amber liquid in hers and clacked it down onto the counter. "Hit me!" she growled.

Bonnie shook her head, picking up her suitcase in one hand and the decanter in the other. "I know how you get, T: you're cut off. I have a call to make to Global Justice. I'll be upstairs."

**RSVP**

Stretched out on the table in the darkened room, her tight, taut muscles quivering with the strain, Amelia felt that she was close to the breaking point. Her skin gleamed under the hot light that was aimed at the center of the table. The heavily muscled minion of their captor had been working her over for nearly half an hour and she didn't think she could remain silent much longer.

All of the girls watched her ordeal from the darkened corners of the rooms, unable to look away as the large servant had his way with her. Trembling, some biting their lips, others clenching and unclenching their hands—it was Crystal who broke first.

"Stop!" she pleaded, "she's had enough! I'll take her place on the table!"

"No, me!" Maggie offered.

The others quickly joined in, begging the muscled stranger to let them take their friend's place and spare her any more of his "ministrations."

Amelia finally broke her stubborn silence with a deep groan. The other girls hugged themselves and trembled. "Oh my god," the stretched brunette moaned, "this feels soooo gooood!"

"Jeez, A!" Linda snapped. "He's going to be too tired to give the rest of us a massage if this goes on much longer!"

Meanwhile, off in the farthest corner, Marcella hugged her knees to her chest and stared at the floor. Sitting on the floor beside her, Hope put her arm around the other girl's shoulders. "What's wrong, Marcy?" she whispered.

The girl often dubbed as "Hope's twin" shook her head slowly. "This is just so awful…" she said quietly.

Hope snuggled a little closer and hugged her more tightly. "Hey, it's not as bad as you're probably thinking," she murmured. "I thought we were dead when those goons burst into Killigan's room and started shooing up the place. But those plastic bullets only left us a few bruises. Then I thought that they were taking us away to execute us in the desert—or even drop us out of the helicopter from some great height. But we were brought here, safe and sound. I even had a pretty strong feeling that we were going to be molested or raped but—"

"—the night is still young, Marcella interrupted.

The Asian-American girl shook her head. "I don't think so, Marcy. At least not until he sells us. And that might not be right away as he seems to want Crystal to teach us all how to dance better. Though I would be worried if I was Amelia: I don't like the way that our 'host' keeps looking at her…"

"What's the difference if we're sold into slavery now or later?" the Italian-American girl sniffed.

"Later buys us time," Hope murmured against her friend's cheek. "He'll come for us. He'll find us. He'll bring us home…"

Marcella's head came up the image of a certain Middleton Mad Dog crept into her mind.

But it was Hope's breath against her face, her arm around her shoulders, her soft warmth against her that comforted her the most.

**RSVP**

"This is awful nice of you guys," Jessica said as she packed the last of her stuff in the small carry-bag that the hospital provided. "The hospital wouldn't release me to go home, yet, if an adult wasn't there to keep me under observation. All I've got is my mom and she has to work two jobs to pay off Dad's medical bills…"

"She's still paying your father's hospital bills?" Anne asked, her coppery eyebrows furrowing as she remembered that Jessica's father had lost his battle with cancer almost a decade earlier.

"Yes ma'am. She says she's got to keep both jobs if I'm going to stay in college."

"Wal, you jus' stay with us for the next few days," the other, curvier redhead said. "Y'all git plenty o' observation an' yer mom kin get caught up on _her_ rest!"

Jessica nodded enthusiastically. "Lord knows I've spent enough time in bed to last me for a month! If I had to stay in this hospital bed another day…and you say Tina's here?"

The two redheads looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Britina," Jessica clarified. "She's my cousin."

"Britina's yer cousin?" Joss asked all flabbergasted. Then she snapped her fingers. "Thet's right! She said something about coming here to look for you!"

The blue-eyed blonde smirked. "Actually, the last time we spoke, she sounded like she was coming here to see Ron Stoppable." Her smirk suddenly turned into a frown. "I suppose they're together, now. Any engagement talk, yet?"

Anne's gloved fist smacked into the palm of the other one. "No. And there'd better not be!"

Jessie's eyebrows rose at the other two women's expressions. _Whoa,_ she thought. _Everyone ignores the school's mascot until last spring and all of a sudden he's number one on the dateable list with a bullet! First Liz, then Tina, and now the Kim-clones!_ She wondered who else might be her competition for the blond dreamboat's attentions.

"So, where are we staying?" she asked as she sat in the wheelchair to be checked out of the hospital.

"A warehouse," Joss answered with a grin. "Aw, don't look like that. I think you'll really like it!"

Anne's smile had teeth. "Just don't like it _too_ much…"

**RSVP**

Shego found Bonnie in the empty apartment next to hers and across the hall from Yoshi and Hanna.

All of the remaining apartment areas had been finished out by the work crews in the last few days. Habitable living quarters had been completed for Ron, Yoshi, Monique, and Shego during the first week and a half (it was amazing what could get done when one was working with the financial resources that Ron commanded). Vivian, she knew, was bunking in her upstairs lab for now. Each of the apartments had been equipped with the standard amenities and appliances. But this apartment, like the other unoccupied living areas, was devoid of furniture, a generic space waiting to be filled by personality of a unique human being.

Unfortunately, Bonnie had two choices if she wanted to sit in one of these: the kitchen counter or the floor. She was sitting in the corner now with her back against a wall and her cell phone pressed to her air.

"Listen to me, you little maggot," the teal-eyed brunette seethed into the phone. "I don't care if she's deep undercover and using the code-name 'Deep Throat'! You tell Elizabeth Director I want to talk to her now! I want answers and I want action! Not the runaround from a bunch of low-level GJ-Joes! Hello? Hello?"

She suddenly burst into tears and threw her phone across the room where it shattered against the far wall. She turned her tear-streaked face up to Shego's. "Get out," she ordered hoarsely.

The former villainess leaned against the open door frame and crossed her arms. "Sorry, Pumpkin. Not your space, not your rules."

"It'll be my space as soon as Ron gets his lazy ass back here and I have a few words with him!"

Shego shook her head again. "You wanna talk to him? Ya gotta talk to me, first. And what if he wants his new girlfriend to move in here, instead?"

Bonnie's face seemed to crumple in on itself and she ducked her head while pulling up her knees so that her expression was hidden, now.

The older woman stepped forward after a few moments and extended her hand. "C'mon, Pumpkin, we need to have some girl talk."

**RSVP**

"You—you're sure this is safe?" Dr. Renton asked as she watched over Justine Flanner's shoulder.

The young genius gestured over to a familiar piece of equipment in the corner of the Possible basement. "I was pretty sure that a living person could transverse the Einstein-Rosen bridge and survive but it was all theory until Jessica Strong stumbled through the open portal when we weren't looking. After that, I ran a diagnostic and discovered that the time-dilation array was a bit wonky. I've sent out for the parts I need to repair it but, in the meantime, I figured that it was safe as long as I was manipulating both ends of the wormhole in realtime. So I tried retrieving something inorganic, first…"

"Felix's chair," Dr. Renton said as she looked away from her son's primary mode of transportation. "So why didn't you rescue him next?"

Justine flushed a little—a rare occurrence for her. "Because I hadn't done a controlled biological retrieval, yet. And, with the time-dilation circuits down and bypassed…"

"You decided to make me your guinea pig instead of my son." Dr. Renton deduced solemnly. "Good!"

Justine visibly relaxed. "Well, we can get him now," she said as she toggled between the hacked security camera in the lair, searching for her boyfriend.

"And as soon as Cece gets here with the parts…" Jim said from behind them and to the left.

"…and we get the time-dilation circuits fixed…" Time chimed in from behind and to the right.

"…we can get our dad back!"

"And Ron's parents!"

"And, um, that redheaded girl."

"Who's Cece?" Dr. Renton asked.

**RSVP**

"Yeah, I knew her back in high school," Bonnie said. She was sitting in a real chair, now: plush and cushioned across from a futon where Shego lounged in her apartment. "She wasn't part of my posse—though she was pretty enough. Had these amazing eyes that pulled you right in if you looked too long. Penny had this quality that suggested that she was about to really blossom—I'll bet she's really bloomed in the year since graduation. Really nice girl…into supporting causes, feeding the hungry…she didn't have the time or the patience to invest in the—" Bonnie made air-quotes with her fingers. "—cool life-style." Her eyes were bleak. "Yet, she wasn't one of the outcasts. She was smart without being a nerd or a geek. Pretty while still being approachable. Nice without putting you into a diabetic coma if you spent time with her…" She closed her eyes. "Shit!"

"Yeah," Shego agreed. "Sounds like the perfect package for Stoppable now that the Princess is gone."

Bonnie's eyes opened again and she considered the other woman, in repose, on the black futon. "Sounds like you're giving up."

"Um…what?"

"Come on, no bullshit here between us girls. I've seen the way you look at him."

Shego shook her head. "You mean when he's pissing me off?"

Bonnie shifted in her chair, pulling her legs up and to the side. "I've heard about how you were always pissed off at the blue guy. And Kim. Sure, Kim: it was always a battle with you two. I get that. We were always at war, too. Just—a little different in the kinds of blows that we would exchange…"

"And Stoppable—Ron—he used to piss me off, too. Only it wasn't the same. Yeah, I'd call him 'loser.' 'Froob.' It took me a long time to really see it. How…" Her voice caught a little. "How I was really just trying to get his attention."

She looked down at where her jacket had parted, revealing the spangled, low cut brassiere that pushed the tops of her breasts up into twin, creamy mounds. "I've never really had to _try_ to get a guy's attention. If they don't notice me the first time I walk by, I just let 'the girls' out a little more and, bingo, I've got a new entourage."

Shego nodded slowly. "But not Stoppable."

Bonnie nodded in turn. "Not Stoppable..."

"It's like she blinded him to everyone else."

Now Bonnie shook her head. "Oh, she's had a pretty good lock on him since Pre-K but he's not immune to the charms of other women. I've heard, for instance, how he reacted when he first saw your picture on that Wanted poster."

"What? Scary, frowning woman who can flash fry your huevos?"

"More like hubba-hubba."

"Nobody says hubba-hubba anymore, kid. I'm not sure that they ever did."

"Hey, I'm not literally quoting here. I just know that he found you attractive. Still does. But we're talking about me, now; I'll get back to you in a moment."

Bonnie closed her eyes again and tilted her head back as she drew on old memories. "Yeah, he's susceptible to other females if the package is right. When he finally found out that my best friend Tara was crushing on him after he saved us at Camp Wannaweep—" she frowned, "—the _first _time he saved us at Wannaweep—well, he just about shit a brick at having missed out on _that_ window…"

"Can't say that I blame him. She looks like moist, angel food cake with yummy, spun-sugar frosting."

"Trust me, as nice as she seems on the outside, what's on the inside is twenty times better! Why do you think I worked so hard, for so many years, to keep those two apart? I don't think that she's ever going to totally forgive me…" She shook her head. "Anyway, if I couldn't get his attention with my looks, I thought I could just get under his skin another way."

Shego nodded. "The insults. The put downs. You wanted to get him all riled up and look away from Possible long enough to look at you. To pay attention to you."

"I didn't know that that was what I was doing. I think it was unconscious, my subconscious, that felt the attraction for years before I finally started admitting some things to myself. By then it was too late. Years of bad behavior, greed, the put-downs—if Possible hadn't finally gotten her head out of her ass and started dating him, I would have lost him to Tara who was overcoming her shyness by now. Or that Asian chick with anime schoolgirl vibe."

"Frustrating…isn't it…" the green woman murmured.

"Yeah, because I know he's never going to look at me that way, now. And it makes me sad and awful and all mixed up with angry—I'm very good with 'angry.' Angry with myself—which I take out on others. And angry with him for not looking at me for all of those years."

She hung her head. "But mostly, really really angry with myself…and Possible. And since he still won't really look at me in the way that I want, it's easy for me to get all pissy with him because it helps me believe that we're not…" She shook her head. "…that way by _my_ choice rather than his. If the rejection is mine…instead…of…"

She shuddered and Shego got up and reached over to place her hand over one of Bonnie's. "I understand. I really do."

Bonnie sighed and looked at her with enormous eyes. "I know you do. Because we're alike in some ways. Angry. A lot. Possible getting under our skins. And Ron—don't deny it! It's because we've got so much in common that I can see it in you."

The other woman wanted to protest, to say that Bonnie really knew nothing about her; hadn't been through a tenth of what the older woman had been through—but she held her tongue. This conversation was for Bonnie's sake and not for hers. Complicating it up with how different they really were would really serve no purpose other than to shut the young woman down and seal away her pain. Besides, she seemed to need to talk to someone who was…a _little_…like her. Her blonde BFF was too radically different in temperament to provide the catharsis the brunette needed. Sure, both of them clearly had some anger issues. And both had dissed the blond boy before he had stepped up last year.

Both Shego's occasional encounters with Team Possible were all about professional taunting and baiting, especially where the buf—Ron—was involved. For Bonnie, it had been an endless parade of very personal put-downs and insults—on a daily basis—for all four years of high school. The former villainess had come to see Ron as an unusually generous and forgiving human being, but she had to admit that it was a wonder that he would let Bonnie Rockwaller anywhere near him, now.

And Bonnie would be the first to admit she deserved his disregard and disdain. In fact, she pretty much already had.

Still…

"Listen, Kiddo; you're tired and upset. Your mission went in the tank and you're worried about your friends. As soon as Ronald gets back and Betty checks in, we're going to come up with a plan—"

The other girl waved her hand. "Yeah. Sure. But we're talking about you, now; not me. I know I just said that we're a lot alike but I also know that we're different, too. You've got that older woman/bad girl vibe going for you—a lot of guys really dig that. And I've seen how he looks at you, how he treats you…"

"Yeah, like I said, he really knows how to piss me off," Shego muttered.

"Why? Because he's not intimidated by you? Because he doesn't roll over and do what you want? Do you really think that he's disrespecting you? Or is he showing you the kind of respect that you rarely get from other men? You know the two types I'm talking about: the ones who are terrified of you and will do whatever you want—whenever they're not too busy running away. Or the ones who can only see your tits and your ass and will sweet-talk you in the hopes of getting a piece of that? Nah, he knows how dangerous you are and he's not afraid of you. He knows how gorgeous you are but he won't go there because then he'll be like all of the other guys who've tried to get close to you."

"All the other guys except one," she whispered to herself.

"I've seen how he looks at you when you're not watching. And I've seen how you look at him when he's not aware."

"Well, that's just about any time," Shego groused. And they both burst out laughing.

As they settled back down, Shego grunted thoughtfully. "So—supposing that it was true that there could be some mutual interest there—why are you trying to encourage me, now?"

"Like I said, I haven't got a snowball's chance in Hell—"

"What about your BFF? Why aren't you downstairs giving this pep talk to Blondie?"

Bonnie stared off into space, her eyes unfocused for a moment. "Maybe it's because old habits die hard," she said finally. "Maybe its because I know that he's grown and he's out of her league, now. And if Possible comes back, I don't know that she could hold onto him: it could destroy her in ways I might never be able to fix. You, at least, would have a fighting chance—both figurative and literal."

Shego held up her hand and favored the younger woman with a slow smile.

"And maybe, if ole 'Rongo" doesn't work out and he dumps my lemon-lime ass, Bitch Bonnie is a better choice as a rebound girl than she ever was as a competitor in the sugar-pie sweepstakes."

Bonnie's smile was slower but wider before she was done. "I hadn't thought of that. But, now that you mention it…"

A shrill scream echoed up from downstairs, interrupting any further discussion for the moment.

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: The dominant portion of the chapter is the conversation between Shego and Bonnie and I like alliteration, so: "Chick Chat."<strong>

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 24<strong>

_A very odd fellow 9/13/12 . chapter 24_

I'm quite happy with your progress in terms of plot threads; I'm looking forward to seeing each and every one of them come to fruition! I'm especially excited about Yori, as that one seems to be a particularly major plot point, but I'm also waiting to see what happens with Penny, Electronique, Shego, Bonnie, Tara...well, most of the threads, really, but those in particular are some of my favorite characters (and/or characters that are rarely seen in fics), and who doesn't want to see favorites explored?

_**Glad you're enjoying all of the subplots in all of their diversity! Funny thing about Yori—I originally planned her death in the tsunami to be final. Funny how readers' input can infect the overall execution of a larger work… Of course, I originally planned for Mama Lipsky's death to be final also but Sentinel103 is bound and determined that I'm going to bring her back and I think he's starting to convince me... R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 914/12 . chapter 24_

So while some of the ladies are bonding, some in one way, some in others..., Ron seems to have learned his mojo has been sent off for a timeout...

Hope he can get this done old school, or he's going to get some more school words 'splained to him when it's over.

But Justine's work may be good in the long run, but not if Ron can't function with that wormhole running.

CB73

_**Yep, having a super-powered hero who can walk through deadly radiation, borrow Shego's plasma powers, and throw ten-foot aliens across the city's skies ceases to be "interesting" after awhile. A true hero must fall so that he might rise. Ron has done this before. But Ron's greatest talents have always been expressed in how he empowers others. He has gathered them. Let the empowering begin…**_

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><p><em>masterbow 914/12 . chapter 24_

looks like your going to bring up where the lotus blade went

_**I thought I would get around to answering that question in the next chapter but it looks like it will be in the one after that. **_

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><p><em>Harbinger Of Kaos 88/13 . chapter 24_

Names for the next chapter:

Hail to the King baby!

Groovy!

Come to papa!

Is there a way for the tweebs to realize that they took Ron's Mojo? I mean do they even know what is they captured and just how underpowered he is right now Nega Kim will wipe the floor with him with out the added MMP boost.

**_Sorry HoK, I've worked out the chapter naming sequence for now but that doesn't mean I won't ask for input again. I'm even considering naming a number of chapters after the titles of other KP FanFics._**

**_As for Team Flanner's awareness of the true nature of Ron's MMP and how much he really needs it, it's a good question and I'll address it a little bit more in a bit. For now, let's just say they don't have eyes on the situation at Ron's for now... R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 89/13 . chapter 24_

So the loser errrr I mean Ronnie boy can't call his frog sticker huh? Mannn I'll bet that crimps his style...hey I can review again Whooooooie.

ST-103

**_Now Larry, do you remember our little talk about drinking and reviewing? (lol) R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 99/13 . chapter 24_

I think I finally reached a breaking point. I mean, the story is awesome, don't get me wrong, but I don't understand your motives. I like your plot threads, interesting as they are; my problem is with your harem-like setup for this story.

What is the point of doing that if you're not gonna fools through with it! The story would of been just as awesome without the drama.

But no, you purposefully set it up that way, just to dangle it in front of us, and then tell us it's impossible  
>to pull off.<p>

Your story is great, therefore I will keep reading it. But please, tell me somewhere down the line, Ron actually man's up and takes responsibility for all the girls emotions.

Rant over.

**_My motives..._**

**_Well, here's the thing..._**

**_When I first came up with the plot for this ridiculously long story, the idea was for Ron to end up with just one person at the end. There was going to be some "payback" (or perhaps a better term would be karma-balancing) for all of the girls who disregarded him all though high school. But, eventually, he was going to end up with just one girl. But, if you write, you know how stories take on a life of their own and this one has gotten away from me a few times. And I hadn't counted on how much the reader feedback was going to influence things. I was initially resistant to the idea of a "harem" element to the story. I still think that four or five people can use the word "harem" here and mean four or five different things...but I digress. I seem to be giving in (a little bit) on elements pertaining to the harem concept. Though as to how much and how far is yet to be determined._**

**_Well, who knows how much of the girls' emotions are Ron's responsibility? How much is their's and their's alone? And how much can be laid at the feet of Zorpox (whose plans for conquest may not just be limited to the world's supply of nacos)? R~13_**

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><p>DJ Rodriguez chapter 24 . 101/14

So far, so good! It seems that Ron is still having troubles left and right, but he seems to be holding up. I vote for Camile Leon to return, and also that Ron still has a harem! More beauties for him, the better! Hehehehe...

Keep it up!

_**Don't worry, Camille Leon will return. As for a harem? I still think that it could lead to rack and ruin...of course, I think we're headed somewhere close to there, anyway. R~13**_

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><p><em><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 24 101/14__

The conversation was fantastic this chapter between Shego and Bonnie. Looking forward to which girl Ron mans up and dates. My vote is for Shego after what Bonnie just told her. Also the baby that was still shocking.

Keep up the good work.

_**Thanks for your support! As for who Ron will date? Some interesting developments are coming up... R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 24 . 104/14_

Q: How many Klingons does it take to change a light bulb?

A: Two. One to change it, and the other to shoot him and take the credit.

_**How many Vulcans does it take to change a light bulb? One point zero zero zero zero zero...any more would be illogical. R~13**_


	25. Coming Clean

**Author's Notes****_: T_**_**he title has changed—or been moved back—because some key scenes have been moved back—hence the changed title for this chapter.**_

**_And speaking of titles, thanks to coming the closest in my last contest, I told _****Pavelius****_ & _****A very odd fellow****_ that they could each ask a secret question about a character or a plot thread and I would give them the inside scoop. I hope my answer satisfied A very odd fellow and I'm still waiting to hear from Pavelius…_**

_**Oh, and while I hope it really doesn't need repeating: THIS STORY CARRIES AN "M" RATING FOR A GOOD REASON. Visitors under the age of 17 should not read without being accompanied by a parent or guardian.**_

_**Once again, the readers' requests count, so far:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 1 vote**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 2 votes**_

_**The return of Camille Leon - 1 vote**_

_**No other reader requests to date…**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _The author of this multi-chapter/multi-story arc possesses no rights or ownership over the original Kim Possible stories or characters and receives no financial benefit from this work. Please pay him in wishes for good karma—the only legal tender in this realm._

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><p><strong>Chapter 25– Coming Clean<strong>

"Well," Heather observed, peering over the bar at a passed out Tara King, "that was rather quick."

Monique nodded. "Bonnie had said something recently about her having a low tolerance for alcohol. I guess she shouldn't have gone digging around back there for additional bottles."

"Frankly," Britina muttered from a nearby table, "I think she had the right idea."

"It doesn't really help," Zita slurred from the back of the room.

The main door suddenly slammed open. Ron and Penny stumbled into the room together.

"Well, where the hell have you two been?" Monique snarled as they staggered into a couple chairs and bounced off a table.

"Help me," Penny gasped.

It was at that moment that everyone (except for Tara) got a good look at the man she was largely holding up with her arm and shoulder.

"I'd really like to sit down, please…" a bruised and bloody Ron Stoppable mumbled through split and swollen lips.

Heather screamed.

As a Hollywood B-movie actress, she was a really good screamer.

**RSVP**

The old man maneuvered his motorized wheelchair closer to the bed. "She is very beautiful, Kimberly," he told his newly-adopted daughter and partner-in-crime. "Is she one of your wounded minions? Or is she another part of our villainous plan to take over the world?"

The question startled the former teen heroine out of her brooding silence. "Er, not exactly either, Señor—er—Father. Her name is Yori…and she's sort of…a…hostage…"

The old man's eyebrows slid upward. "A pregnant hostage," he observed. "In a coma."

Kim slowly nodded.

"Who is the father?" he asked when it appeared that she would say nothing further.

At first he thought that she hadn't heard him. Then he supposed that she might not know the answer.

But then she finally bowed her head and whispered: "I think its Ron…in fact, I'm pretty sure of it…"

**RSVP**

Shego and Bonnie burst into the bar area and discovered a cluster of women, huddled next to one of the small tables.

"What's going on down here?" the head of security demanded as she stalked toward the group.

"More napkins, please," said a familiar voice. "I don't want to get blood on the carpet…"

Shego pushed through the gathering and gasped as she saw her missing employer.

Ron Stoppable looked like the cover of one of those old _Doc Savage_ novels that she used to "borrow" from Hego when she was a kid. Except Doc Savage had never displayed vast amounts of bruised and bleeding skin where his shirts had been artfully torn to show his chest, arms, and abs. Doc Savage had never been painted with one eye blackened and the other swollen shut.

And Doc Savage was never hunched over with a look of utter bewilderment and defeat on his battered features.

She knelt beside his chair and winced as she looked up at his sorrowful face. "Ron?" she said softly and gently touched his knee. He winced though she barely made contact. "What happened?"

He shook his head and a stripe of blood appeared on her cheek like war paint.

"I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No," he croaked. "Secure the doors…put entire building on lockdown. Just in case. And call Liz."

"Who?"

"Liz…abeth…"

"Lizabeth who?"

"Director."

"Bets? And what am I supposed to tell her? Bring band-aids?"

He winced at her tone and she was instantly sorry. But still furious.

"Penny will explain…"

"Fucking A," someone murmured behind her.

"Just want to go upstairs…and lie down," he continued. "After I catch my breath…"

"Stoppable," she growled, suddenly even more frightened. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you go into another healing trance!"

He waved a bloody Kleenex like weary zombie. "No…no…just want to clean up …'n' lie down for twenty minutes. Then…round…two…"

Shego turned to glare at Penny. "What the hell's he talking about, Lane?"

The blonde with the striking eyes was wringing her hands. "It's…a story. But we should probably lock the doors like he says—just to be safe."

Having a better idea than most just as to what Ron Stoppable was capable of, she looked at the bloody and beaten form next to her and was suddenly afraid. "Okay ladies, you heard the boss!" she said. "I want this entire building on lockdown, stat! Doors, windows, any point of entry on every floor! Where's King?"

"Behind the bar," Zita offered.

"What?" She looked, expecting the blonde medical student to be pouring drinks. Instead, she caught a glimpse of a foot, sticking out from behind the bar, on the floor. "Oh." She looked around. "Rockwaller! Do you think you can help Stoppable back to his room by yourself?"

Wide-eyed, Bonnie nodded and stepped forward to help Ron to his feet.

"I'll help," Penny offered but Shego's arm blocked her way.

"You'll be staying down here and answering some questions," Shego told her. The expression on her face brooked no arguments. "C'mon, ladies! Hustle, hustle! Then we'll reconvene for story-time with blondie, here."

Penny swallowed as she looked around and saw that Shego might be the least of her worries

**RSVP**

Señor Senior, Senior brooded in his study after Kim's departure.

When he had first turned to super-villainy as a retirement hobby, it had all seemed very exciting in the abstract.

It was supposed to be like some giant game of chess with your targets, foes, and the gendarmes, of course. As a gentleman mastermind, he envisioned daring heists and complicated capers where no one was truly hurt—except the insurance companies. And the spinning tops of doom? Team Possible was supposed to run away! Not engage in a manner where their lives were in actual jeopardy! Even so, a super-villain expects his nemeses to be of a higher caliber and, therefore, being fully equipped to deal with whatever might be thrown at them.

If there was an occasional casualty it would likely be someone like that pompous ass from the Billionaires Club who had it coming!

He never envisioned innocent bystanders and collateral damage.

And never in his wildest dreams had he imagined the face of beautiful young woman, as still as death, a pawn on the chessboard of his own naked ambitions…

It had been fun coming up with his various schemes. Having the money to buy the toys and trappings of super-villainy. The island lair. The robots, missiles, and automated lasers. The killer koi.

Up until now, it hadn't been up close and personal.

But now…

Now it was not just the idea of a lovely young woman, a young mother with child, sleeping a long and deep sleep on death's doorstep that disturbed him…

No, what bothered him more was the look in his young protégé's eyes.

Eyes that were stunned and haunted. Eyes that were a window to an inner world of hurt and pain and breathtaking betrayal.

And maybe more than a little madness.

This…Yori…was a source of great weakness and vulnerability for Kim—that much he could read in her face and hear in her voice.

The question was, had Kimberly taken her so that she might be used against her former partner when the time came?

Or did she seek to protect herself from a greater wounding than what she had already received with this discovery?

She had returned to her base of operations, leaving this Yori behind with Señor Senior, Senior so that her hostage might receive the best of care while keeping her hidden.

_But who_, the old man pondered, _was he really supposed to keep her hidden from? _

_Ron Stoppable?_

_Or Kim, herself?_

**RSVP**

They took the elevator up.

Ron was able to limp along with some assistance but it was clear that the stairs were a total no go for the moment.

"Sorry, Bon Bon," he whispered as she held the elevator door open and assisted him off onto the third floor.

"What? Why?" she asked as he limped beside her down the hall.

"Your coat. I'll pay…to have it cleaned. Or buy you a new one."

She glanced down and saw the reddish brown stains where he had leaned against her. "Are you kidding me?" She slapped his arm and yelled: "How can you even think about—"

And abruptly stopped as she realized he was going: "Ow…ow…ow…"

"Oh, God! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Oh Ronnie!"

"'Sokay." He tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. "Just help me get my door open."

They stopped in front of the door to his personal quarters and he looked down. "Sorry," he said, "key's in my pocket…"

"Yeah, sure," she said sarcastically, her smile belying her tone of voice, "bet you planned it this way all along." She dipped her hand into his pocket and moved it around.

"Nice, he said with a painful smile, "but you've got the wrong pocket."

"Hold on," she said. "Don't rush me. Maybe I need to make absolutely sure…"

"Bon Bon, please," he touched her arm. "While the idea of you playing pocket pool with me would normally be a pleasant fantasy, I really need to get inside and off my feet."

"Oh. Right. Heh!" She switched hands and pockets, coming up with his keys in short order. "And don't call me Bon Bon! Or I'll call you Ron Ron!"

"Ahhh! Okay! You can hit me again but don't call me Ron Ron!"

"Then we understand one another," she deadpanned as she unlocked the door and swung it open.

"Yes." He held out his hand for his keys. "Thanks. I'll take it from here…"

"Oh, hells no! You can barely stand! I'm not leaving until I'm sure that you're all right!"

**RSVP**

Hego glanced at his watch and headed into the main room of the Go Tower.

The twins were already there, waiting nervously by the big screen.

It was a daily ritual that they'd performed even since an envelope had arrived with a terse note and a tiny domino mask enclosed.

Three P.M.

Right on time, the giant view screen flickered to life. As long predicted, it was easily hacked by any super-villain with a competent tech-minion.

The image was the same—or nearly the same—as always.

A stoppered bottle was shown in close-up. Inside the bottle was the model of a ship that looked like it had battered itself upon the smooth slope of a glassy reef. Around the base of the hall were the desiccated bodies of three dead spiders.

And sitting on the side of the model ship was a much diminished Mego, sans mask, and wearing a plastic cocktail sword thrust through a belt made out of a twisty tie.

A newspaper bearing the current date was held up next to the bottle as "proof of life."

And then the picture faded to be replaced with text on the screen.

**Remember, he is safe as long as you do nothing and as long as you tell no one**_**,**_ the text read.

The screen went blank after another thirty seconds and what was left of Team Go returned to the most difficult task that had ever known.

Waiting.

**RSVP**

She watched him through a crack in the not-quite-closed bathroom door as he stood at the sink and stared at the already fogged mirror. In the background she could hear the tub filling with water. The air inside the tiled room was already heavy with moisture and tendrils of mist seeped out into the bedroom where she stood as a sort of befuddled, voyeuristic sentry.

Clearly, he _wasn't_ all right and she had visions of him drowning in his own bathtub.

Finally, his hands moved and plucked at his shirt as he tried to unfasten the buttons. She winced as she saw the bruised knuckles and swollen fingers. _No wonder he was having so much difficulty._

She took a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

"Here," she said, "let me help." And she began unbuttoning his shirt.

His reaction time was slow and by the time he had turned his face to hers, she was already slipping the remains of the shirt from his shoulders.

_What happened?_ she wondered as she moved around him to test the water temperature in the tub. _Is he concussed? Or just exhausted?_ The water was too hot so she adjusted the taps to cool it down a little. The bathtub was larger than standard and, therefore, a greater hazard to someone who might not be able to lift themselves up or out.

"I—got this," he mumbled through swollen lips as her hands moved his aside and went to work on his belt. He didn't "let" her so much as seem powerless to stop her. The buckle came undone and then it was déjà vu from high school all over again: his pants were suddenly around his ankles like they had just teleported there.

She knelt at his feet and eased his socks and one shoe off—the other shoe was missing. He had to lean over her, his hands on her shoulders as she managed this and getting him the rest of the way out of his pants. Otherwise he might have fallen.

Still might, she decided as she stood again and looked him over. The scrapes and blood and bruises were bad enough but there was something in his face—or, rather, something now lacking there that disturbed her. It was as if he'd lost something of himself, something essential had gone missing. He was hurting, for sure. But it was as if he didn't care that he was hurting…and that thought made her feel a little sick inside for some reason.

"Thanks, Bonnie…I'll take it from here…" He turned and slipped a little on the tiles, slick from the condensation from the hot water and the cool air.

"Hold it right there," she ordered, slipping off her coat. Let me put some towels down, first." She bustled about, making a non-skid path across the floor and then took him by the arm and led him over to the tub.

"Sit on the edge," she told him as she helped him down. "Let's take this real slow."

"Nice outfit…" he said as she helped him swing one leg around and eased it into the water. "Some sort…of sorority…party…on campus?"

Bonnie looked down at the colorful harem-girl costume that she was still wearing and realized that Ron probably didn't know anything about the trip to Babastan and Operation Duff Justice as he'd still been in that healing trance when they'd left.

And now he was injured again!

"Do you like it?" she asked demurely, side-stepping the question until the disastrous mission could be discussed at a more opportune time.

"Who wouldn't?" he said with a crooked smile. "I'm good now. Thanks. You can get back to your party…"

"Ron, she said gently but firmly, "_that_ party is over. Besides, I'm not leaving until I'm sure that you're all right." She reached up and unhooked the front closure on her jeweled bra.

"H-hey," he said weakly, "wh-what are you doing?"

"It's a nice outfit, Ronnie; you said so, yourself. I don't want to get it wet. Or scratch you—you're already scratched enough." She shrugged her shoulders, thrusting her chest at him and let her top fall down her back and arms before placing it on the counter by the sink.

Ron turned away and covered his eyes with a shaky hand.

"What's the matter, Ronnie? You were marri—you've seen breasts before," she said, as she wiggled out of the sheer, harem pants.

"Yes. But they weren't _your_ breasts."

"What's so special about my breasts? It's not like they're sacred or holy."

"Actually…back in high school…they sorta were. There were two or three cults…built up around them…and I personally knew…some of the guys…who worshipped—" He stopped talking as she sat beside him and he felt one of the subjects under discussion brush his arm.

Reaching over, she grasped the loosened waistband of his shredded boxers and ripped them away from his body. The material gave way easily having already been weakened by the colossal fight that he had obviously been through.

"Hey…" he said weakly.

"What? You wanted to save them for a souvenir? You weren't ever wearing those scraps again." She saw that he was now using his other hand to cover his groin.

"Give me your hands, Ron. Both of them so that I can help you into the water." Neither hand seemed inclined to move. She frowned and then grinned an evil grin. "Ron? You were talking about my breasts a moment ago and now you've got a hand between your legs. What's going on down there?"

Both hands came away, albeit not with the speed that they might have normally moved. He was obviously still hurting and his reaction time was behind the curve. She helped him swing the other leg over the edge and then she stepped into the water, herself, noting that his eyes were squeezed shut. Kneeling, she helped him down into the tub

**RSVP**

Shego stopped by the table where Monique sat with her crutches. "Did you finish securing the doors and windows in the restaurant area?" Shego wouldn't have even asked that of the injured girl but Monique had insisted while the others were checking the perimeter of a factory-sized building.

The black girl nodded, barely glancing up from her fashion magazine. "What about the bots?" she asked.

Shego shrugged. "I've had Bebe and Dede out running a search grid for Ron since this morning. I need to talk to Vivian about rigging some sort of communications thingy because I have no way of recalling them."

"What about Cece?"

"I have no idea where she—it—is. That one always seems to be disappearing at the oddest times." She turned back to Monique who had returned to her fashion magazine. "You should probably go back to your apartment until we assess the threat.

Monique's only reply was to pull a wicked-looking stun gun from her purse and press a button. Three-hundred-and-twenty thousand volts danced between the two metal prongs.

"I'm good," she answered.

**RSVP**

The water was already turning brownish-red as she eased him down against the back of the tub with a rolled up towel being his head for a pillow. Opening the drain, she adjusted the hot and cold taps to replenish the water as it recycled.

"This feels great," he murmured, as the heat from the water began to penetrate his bruised and aching muscles.

"Good," she said quietly as she took down the hand-held shower attachment and a bottle of shampoo. "Just let me know if I hurt you," she told him as she gently wet his hair.

"You mean now or all through high school," he whispered.

She almost dropped the attachment as she set it aside.

"Omygod! I said that out loud, didn't I? Bonnie, I'm so sor—"

"Don't!" she said, her fingers covering his broken mouth. "Don't apologize! I should be apologizing to you. You have nothing to be sorry for!"

"Still—"

"_Be_ still!" She hissed. "I was a total bitch you in high school and you totally didn't deserve it! I was immature and weak and jealous—"

"Jealous?" He cocked his head and she noted that his eyes were still shut tight.

She knelt between his legs, marveling at extra room in the oversized bathtub and poured some shampoo into the palm of her hand. "Let's just say that the only choices that I could see at the time was to either bitch and snark and not get what I wanted or…"

"Or?"

"Put Kim in a shallow grave so I could collect the spoils."

"Who's Kim?"

And there it was again.

That surprising reminder of Ron's very specific amnesia and the great, big, aching hole in his history that was waiting to be filled.

"Hush," she said as she bent over him, "and let me do something nice for a change…" Slowly, gently, she began to massage the shampoo into his scalp.

**RSVP**

"Slow down," Joss called as Anne drove them past Vandamm Street on their way to Upperton.

"Why?" Anne asked. "The force field is still up, isn't it?"

"Wal, yeah," her niece allowed. "But ah thought ah saw it flicker. An' it looked like Cece was a-goin' around behind there…"

"Who's Cece?" Jessica asked from the back seat, as Anne hit the brakes and spun the station wagon into a U-turn.

**RSVP**

He kept his eyes shut through the washing and rinsing of his hair. Twice, in fact as the first time his bath-mate found herself removing twigs and gravel and unidentifiable pieces of detritus from his scalp with the first pass.

He kept his eyes shut as she gently cleaned his face, dabbing at the crusted blood with a soft washcloth. She was pleased to see that not all of the blood was his own.

The scratches across his chest looked painful but appeared less serious than some of the older scars that were white lines transecting the purple bruises on his pectorals. He hissed briefly as she put an arm around him to pull him up to wash his back: _broken ribs? Or merely cracked?_

This new position brought her upper torso in proximity with his face. It was a good thing, she mused, that her patient was still trying to not peek: her hardening nipples were threatening to poke his eyes out!

Easing him back down and returning to his front, she moved the soapy cloth down his abdomen, surprised and yet not surprised to see that her charge had the rippled musculature of an "eight-pack" (Brick had only had "six"—and that only during football season).

He shivered a little as she washed lower so she moved to his legs, picking more gravel out of his bloodied knees. As she worked her way back up his thighs, she could see his sex beneath the murky water: impressive, yet still flaccid. A part of her was relieved and yet another part was disappointed.

While not the slut that some supposed, Bonnie had been to third base more than once. Or was that second? The conversation with the other girls had been more confusing than enlightening…

The point was, no other guy had ever been in a situation quite like this. She was naked. She was wet and soapy. She was solicitous. She was kneeling between a young man's legs practically thrusting her ta-tas in his face while running her hands all over his own, naked, wet, and soapy body.

Either he just wasn't interested.

Or he was really hurting!

"I'm putting my money on hurting," she muttered.

"Wha—?" Surprised, he had involuntarily opened his eyes. Which quickly squinched shut, again.

She sat back on her heels. "Ron…Ronnie…look at me."

"But…you're naked…"

"So are you, Champ."

"Yeah, but…I'm nothing to look at…"

Her eyes widened. _What? Did he really think that he was unattractive? Who put that ridiculous ide—_

And then she remembered a certain teal-eyed cheerleader back in high school who never missed an opportunity tear a certain team mascot's self esteem to shreds.

"Oh, Ron…" Tears began to fill her eyes. "…do you think I'm pretty?"

"Uh…ye-ah."

"Well, I think you're pretty, too."

He snorted and she started to weep.

"Ron…oh, Ronnie…I really do think you're pretty…and…and…I got to look at you naked in here all of this time…won't you look at me…just a little bit?"

His eyes were open now. And they weren't looking at her breasts—which were magnificent, by the way—or any of the intimacies of her nude and nubile flesh.

He was staring at the most naked part of her, now…

Her face.

"Bonnie…what's wrong?"

She shook her head and sobbed harder.

Wincing, he reached up and closed his poor, banged up hands around her upper arms. Gently, he pulled her down and cuddled her against his chest. "D-don't cry, Bon. It will be all right. Just tell me what's wrong…we'll...fix it…whatever it is…"

That only made her cry harder. And the water was cold before she was finally cried out.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Of course there's the whole bath scene but "Coming Clean" is about Bonnie confessing to Ron, as well.<strong>

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><p><em><strong>AN 2: Well, I've you've been here before, you probably remember a different title for this chapter—a title that's been moved to the next chapter for reasons that will be shortly obvious. I thought I would get to those scenes in this chapter but sometimes (make that often) the writing doesn't go as planned. And sometimes I use slightly obscure titles or titles with multiple meanings so I used to explain the meaning or reference at the end of each chapter. I took most of that out with the rewrite—just added to the clutter.**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 25<strong>

_CajunBear73 9/17/12 . chapter 25_

Hope Penny can get the rest up to speed, unless they swarm her for going off alone with Ron... And they can withstand what's coming.

Kim may be turning a darker corner than she ever intended, and Senior may help save her from herself when the time comes about Yori and Ron. But why do I suspect Hirotaka as a divergence in this for Ron's wife?

Enjoyed Kurt's tales, those I've read, but that one I hadn't come across.

CB73

**_Erm…something's coming? (whistles innocently) Penny is definitely on thin ice with the rest of the girls—and she won't be the only one. And, DARK Kim? Maybe Ron should just take the easy way out and kill himself now… As for Vonnegut, "Welcome To The Monkey House" was both a short story and a collection of his short stories. And, again, I'm going to postpone using that title for another chapter. (Like Tolkein, the tale grows with the telling. Stay tuned for RSVP IV: The Kimarillian!) R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 925/12 . chapter 25_

I can see Mego becoming a badass now hes in constant danger. Bonnie being herself with ron continues to be a way to get ron to open up

**_It will be interesting to see if Mego's isolation and imprisonment change him in any way—assuming that he survives, that is. As for Bonnie? Continue on to the next chapter… R~13_**

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 928/12 . chapter 25_

I thought your response to my question was fantastic, and am quite grateful for such a thorough one. I think you did an amazing job with this chapter; the emotion was flowing freely, which can be difficult to properly express, but you managed wonderfully. I'll also go ahead and vote for "Ron being 'attacked by crazed supermodels' per his 'wish' in the episode "Exchange.'" as well. I'll have to do some research if I'm going to find any of my own wishes, and will now go back to eagerly awaiting the next chapter.

-Avof

**_Glad you liked my answer(s) and I'm a little chagrined to say that I've ended up going down some side roads that I didn't anticipate in the beginning of the first section (RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron). While I still think things are still going to turn out the way I planned, reader pressure and the green gladiatrix are messing with chunks of the original concept! R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 89/13 . chapter 25 _

Good chapters. I think Erwin Rommel said it best: "Sweat saves blood, blood saves lives, and brains save both." and "So long as one isn't carrying one's head under one's arm, things aren't too bad."

**_As long as Ron has all of those ladies under one roof, I'm not sure that heads won't roll no matter how much sweat is involved... ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 810/13 . chapter 25_

Huh I have another review I can do? Welllllll OH KAY then Rippydude, seems like Senior is having second thoughts about his hobby and Kim maybe trying to stash Yori away from where the stuff is gonna hit the fan maybe to protect Ron's XYL and little Yori. I wonder how this is gonna pan out.

ST-103

**_I often wonder, too! R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 99/13 . chapter 25 _

So I'm guessing Ron and Bonnie will get it in next chapter?

**_Get "it"? Depends on what you mean by "it"... R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 25 . 114/14_

Bonnie can stay too and can science trap magical mmp ...?

_**Well...if it can, I'm not sure how long it can hang on to it. But you guys don't want an all-powerful hero: that would be too boring!**_

_**Though it would probably make the story a lot shorter.**_

_**Hmmmmm...I can see how you might like that. R~13**_

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><p><em>sparrowhawk63 chapter 25 . 429/14_

Have enjoyed this for too long without chiming in, and this will be less a review that a few random thoughts...  
>Ron could have a satisfying long-term relationship with any girl he decides upon simply because of who he is. He is a "healer", of whatever is broken. He will always put the welfare of his family, friends, and loved ones before his own. He gives of himself and loves unselfishly.<br>That being said, who needs Ronshine the most? Let's narrow down the field a bit...  
>Kim. If you give Ron his full memory back, and clear up the damage from the synthopukes, he will move heaven and Earth to "fix" Kim. The hardest relationship to make work, because even with a fully repaired Kim, you still have someone that will need to understand she isn't really all that, and there are others that can easily, happily, take her place in Ron's life.<br>Shego. Nobody can drive you crazy faster than someone you truly care for. Shego loves, and is in love, with Ron. She just has to admit it to herself. Her past has hurt her in ways we are still finding out, kept at bay by the walls of hard indifference she has built around herself. Those walls will slowly drain your strength and kill your soul. With Ron, she could drop those walls and let someone else be the strong one for a change.  
>Bonnie. Everyone wants to "Bonnie bash", but I see someone who desperately wants to love and be loved, and doesn't have a clue how. Her family is as much to blame as she is for her self-centered, snarky, shallow personality, one that is changing rapidly the further she moves away from the HS food chain. Having Ron in her life and her heart would completely change Bonnie's life for the better. Deserving...no. Needing...without question.<br>This has become one of my top five favorite stories. I have no idea how you are keeping all this straight, but keep on keeping on! And remember, caffeine is your friend.

_**You know, SH, you have succinctly summed up the Ron Relationship Trifecta when it comes to what's broken and what needs to be fixed. Yes, there are others with issues and something needs to be done about the Anne and Joss problem (boy, am I gonna hear from some readers for saying that...) but it's Kim, Shego, and Bonnie who are going to be the most affected if Ron ends up with anyone else.**_

_**(Holds up hand: "Don't the rest of you start! There is a plan...well, there was a plan...now there's three or four plans...mostly. Parts of several plans that I may have to duct-tape together...the POINT is, I have several good ideas. Pretty good ideas... Just...just...keep reading until I figure something out, okay?)**_

_**Anyway, very astute, my friend.**_

_**(Maybe the smartest thing is to let the Uptopian spy abduct him back to her home planet...) R~13**_


	26. Bedtime for Bon Bon

_**Once again, the readers' requests count, so far:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 1 vote**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The Return of Camille Leon - 2 votes**_

_**Finding out what Cousin Larry is up to… - 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _The author has no rights to the Kim Possible franchise and receives no remuneration for this story. Frankly, the author often wonders why he even bothers…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 26 – Bedtime for Bon Bon<strong>

The hot water had seemed to help his bruised and aching muscles. But lying in the tub together until the water turned cold had not been such a good idea. Toweling off had helped some but they were both shaking a bit as she bundled him into his bed. After a moment's hesitation, she crawled in after him, drawing the covers around them both and spooning him from behind.

Cold and exhausted, Ron was just half-aware of what was happening and, so, only half-concerned that it was probably a bad idea. But her thighs warmed his from behind, her belly was a furnace against his buttocks, and the sensation of her fulsome breasts mashed against his back was heavenly as she snuggled against him and wrapped an arm around his waist, placing her hand up ever so gently on his battered chest.

In moments he was asleep.

**RSVP**

Shego looked around the space destined to be the bar area leading into the space that was going to be the main seating area for the restaurant. She frowned and counted heads, trying to determine if everyone was back from securing the building. The number seemed to be off—and then she heard Tara's faint snores from behind the bar.

That seemed to explain why her count appeared to be off…

The others were looking expectantly at her and she turned to stare at an obviously cowed Penny. "Well, Lane?" she growled. "Let's have it. What happened?"

The teal-eyed blonde looked at the expressions on the faces of the other girls in the room and swallowed nervously. Ron had said something about some of the other occupants of the building sticking their noses into his business…but the women who were staring at her now wore expressions that ranged from "proprietary" to nakedly jealous.

_Holy cow! Were some of these women his ex-lovers_?

"We're waiting, Lane," Zita chimed in, cracking her knuckles ominously.

"_Ex-" nothing! Holy crap!_

"Well, that is," she began shakily, "Ronnie wanted to go somewhere for lunch—"

"Ron," Monique corrected.

"What?"

"His name is Ron. You haven't known him long enough to call him 'Ronnie'."

"Er—Ron—he—wanted to go somewhere for lunch where we—_he_—wouldn't be disturbed…"

"Oh?" Shego arched an eyebrow.

"He said something about 'babysitters' and I didn't know what he meant but I let him drive my car and didn't know where we were going until we got to the zoo…"

"Why the zoo?" Yoshi wanted to know.

"He wanted to picnic by the Monkey House," Penny elaborated. "He said nobody would think to look for him there."

Shego nodded. "Smart boy…"

Britina frowned. "I don't understand."

"I'll explain later," Heather hissed.

"Well, we had barely gotten started—"

"Started?" Zita growled.

"Lunch! Lunch!" Penny qualified quickly. "When we were attacked by a big gorilla!"

"A gorilla attacked you?" Vivian asked. "He got out of his cage?"

"Y-yeah. Well, sorta. I guess he got out of the refrigerator in the animal medical center—"

"What was a gorilla doing in a refrigerator?" the platinum blonde pop star asked.

"Um, he was dead—"

"Dead?" the other girls yelled.

"Jinx," said a slurry voice from behind the bar. "Ev'body owes me soda…"

"Apparently something has been killing the monkeys at the zoo—"

"A gorilla is an ape, not a monkey," Vivian corrected.

Shego shot her a look. "_Really_, Porter?"

"Uh, and this gorilla was apparently the first—"

"Could they have been mistaken?" Monique asked. "You know, put it in the fridge and then it revived?"

Penny shook her head. "They'd done an autopsy. Took out all of its organs."

There was a chorus of "Ews!" at this and a disembodied voice said: Jinksss 'gain!"

"How could it attack you if it was dead and had no guts?" Zita demanded.

"Bitch, I do not _know!_" Penny snapped, finally out of patience. "Are you all gonna let me tell this story?"

**RSVP**

As Ron slipped deeper into an uneasy slumber, Bonnie found herself growing increasingly restless.

Despite the rumors and locker room talk, Bonnie Rockwaller had never been naked in bed with a boy before.

Oh, she had indulged in some mutual, backseat groppage with boys over the years—but not as many as might be believed. In fact, you could count them on the fingers of one hand and still have a couple of digits to spare. Only two had ever seen her flawless breasts in all of their unfettered glory.

Neither had gone blind despite the persistent mythology as to what would happen should any mere mortal male behold such pulchritudinous perfection.

And while she had favored her long-suffering boyfriend, Brick Flagg, with a hand-job once—and only once—she was, by just about every definition in every sexual rule book imagined since the late twentieth century, still a virgin.

The truth was, the great Bonnie Rockwaller, considered unattainable by most of the adolescent, Middleton male population…was still unattained.

Just because a girl looks like a masturbatory wet dream, it doesn't mean that she actually puts out. One of the great social secrets is that women who can have any man at their feet just by snapping their fingers, usually don't need to do anything—or _want_ to do anything more. They're waiting for the right guy.

They're _saving it_ for the right guy.

And sometimes that wait can be long because a lot of the right guys refuse to play the games or won't try to cut in to the front of the line.

So, girls like Bonnie Rockwaller have to suffer fools.

And horndogs.

And sleezeballs.

And make the best of dating dim-bulb jocks while waiting for one, truly extraordinary guy to show up.

The wait can make you crazy, can drive you to despair.

And imagine what it is like when one finally does show up—one that makes every other boy you've ever met look like rejects from the froob factory?

You want!

But you can't touch!

Because someone else got there first!

Someone who is just as extraordinary as he is!

The Yin to his Yang, the Taco to his Nacho.

Imagine how much you would hate your rival for having what you want—especially when she doesn't even seem to want him the way that you do…

Imagine how crazy he would make you when your legendary assets can't seem to compete with a girl who looks like she wears a training bra…

Imagine how hard you would try to bury those feelings—the ache, the loss—by convincing yourself that he really "wasn't all that…"

How you could almost—but not quite—convince yourself that he was nothing, really…

Beneath your contempt…

Except that you couldn't quite convince yourself…

Not without piling on the contempt that he was supposed to be beneath…

And, you found that if you did that long enough—call him "loser" and "froob" and a dozen other contemptuous and hurtful names and phrases—you could sort of construct a little, self-delusional bubble of amnesia. And, for awhile, you could sort of believe it.

Wannaweep blew that all to fuck and back: it had taken her months before she could return to equilibrium.

But the Lowardian incident—followed by Kim's disappearance and Ron's return had pretty much destroyed that little bubble of forgetfulness, once and for all.

And now, finally confronting all of the hurt she had done him…only to have him accept her into his arms and show concern for her own pain—well that had just about undone her completely!

So, now, here she was: in his bed, holding him in her arms, warming him with her body…

Being intimate in a way she had never been with another man…

It was like an itch now that she couldn't scratch.

She wasn't worthy of him—she could see that, now.

Someday, he would wake from his spell and remember Kim…or she would return in the flesh and reclaim him just as surely as his memories would shove her away once they returned.

It didn't matter: she, Bonnie Rockwaller, wasn't _worthy_ of him.

But she would accept whatever she could have in the meantime.

Do whatever she could for him, for as long as he would let her.

And maybe…

Just…maybe…

He would give her something.

Something of himself…

Something for her to hold onto.

She lightly stroked her fingers across his chest and kissed the back of his shoulder.

"Oh, Ron…I…love you…" she whispered into the cleft of her breasts.

He stirred a little and murmured: "…K...mm…"

**RSVP**

"He was confident one moment," Penny told the assemblage, "and then it was like something happened! Or didn't happen."

"Like something happened or didn't happen." Shego deadpanned.

"Well, he—he stuck his arm out like he was going to catch something. But nothing happened. And—and he looked kind of surprised."

"The Lotus Blade," Yoshi murmured.

"And then what happened?" Monique wanted to know.

"Then he got this look on his face. Sort of like 'Oh shit, this is gonna hurt but I'm gonna do it anyway!' And then he ran up the monster's back, wrapped his legs around its thick neck, and smacked his cupped hands down on its ears to burst its eardrums!"

"If it was a zombie gorilla that was already dead, then that shouldn't have had any effect," Vivian observed.

"Tell me about it," Penny growled, her fists clenching at the memory. "The only effect that it actually had was for Ron to end up getting thrown against the trash can next to Gibbon cage."

"Aren't the zoo trash receptacles made out of concrete cylinders?" Monique asked.

"Yes. And he broke the one that broke his fall!"

The rest of the girls gasped almost as one.

**RSVP**

It looked like the static on their old TV screen, back when she was little, before her family got cable and then upgraded to digital.

She reached out to touch it and Joss cried: "Don't!"

Too late: her fingers made contact with the hissing wall of white noise and Jessica was knocked back a couple of steps, her fingertips stinging as if she had shuffled across her carpet on a dry, winter's day and touched something metal. _Static electricity?_ she wondered.

"And your house is inside that?" she asked the former Mrs. Dr. Possible as she stepped back to look at the giant, force field bubble again.

Anne hugged herself as she struggled with the jumble of memories and emotions that the past invoked in her. It was worse knowing that her home was inside there and not being able to see it. That meant she had to rely on memories.

And every time she turned her mind back to the past, things got…confusing.

When she thought of her mother, it was as if she saw her through a window…or maybe it was a mirror. And when she thought of herself—Kim Possible, teen heroine—it was as if she were seeing herself from across the room in all of those old memories.

Furthermore, she knew that she loved her boyfriend, Ron Stoppable—even though he continued to hold her at arm's-length. She wasn't happy about the other women in his life—some of whom seemed to not get that the blond cutie was _her_ property! Fortunately, he seemed about as interested—or disinterested—in them as he did in her. She was glad that he was being "faithful" of a sort. But there was something definitely wrong…

Two people who had been BFFs since Pre-K and BF/GF since Junior Prom should be more romantic, indulging in some "intimacies"—even if they didn't "go all the way"—by now. Maybe she wasn't trying hard enough to be romantic. Maybe she needed to push the issue a little harder…

_I mean, he is my boyfriend and I love him, don't I?_

But even as she mused over the state of her relationship with Ron Stoppable—who everybody knew was Kim Possible's boyfriend—she kept getting little memory flashes of Mr. Dr. Possible. Who everybody knew was Kim Possible's father.

Little memory blips suggesting that she had had some…kind of _thing_…going on with him…

Which couldn't be true!

Because that would be _wrongsick!_

Even dating Shego would be less wrongsick than that!

And, worst of all…it didn't…feel…wrongsick!

_Which made it all the more wrongsick!_

She didn't want to think about it!

She needed to purge those awful thoughts!

She needed to erase those doubts and feelings and the best way that she could think to do that would be to make new memories…amp up those _other_ feelings!

Feelings for Kim Possible's boyfriend!

Because she _was _Kim Possible!

Wasn't she?

**RSVP**

The cold was gone.

Cocooned in warmth, he could feel the surface aches slip away though the deeper aches remained.

He drowsed and dozed but had moments of lucidity as he shifted to find a more comfortable position or felt his limbs being rearranged for some unknown purpose.

Bonnie…

_Bonnie was in bed with him._

That was surprising—though she had basically apologized, over and over, for being such a bitch to him back in high school. She had even made some sort suggestion that she'd wanted things to be different—maybe—he'd kind of zoned out and may have imagined that last part.

Still, she was in bed with him and, from the feel of things, was naked, too.

Her breasts were pressed against him. Bookending his upper arm now that he was laying on his back.

Maybe she was cold, too.

_Though s_he felt very warm, now.

Her arm was moving on his chest and stomach, gently stroking him. Her fingers seemed to know just where to go to unravel a knotted cramp, gentle a hurt. It felt wonderful! He groaned involuntarily as she soothed a spike of pain up near his shoulder.

Her hand paused.

Withdrew.

And, suddenly, she was gone from his bed.

Dreamily, he knew he wasn't supposed to be disappointed. It was crazy: he couldn't get involved with anyone right now…

And Bonnie was obviously confused about her own feelings. People didn't make good emotional decisions when they were still hurting. And Bonnie was hurting: she had told him that.

He was hurting, too, for that matter. Not in the just-gone-fifteen-rounds-with-a-zombie-gorilla kind of way. But in the lost-my-wife-and-unborn-daughter-as-well-as-my-parents kind of way…and…and…beyond even that…

There was an _emptiness_ at the very core of his being that he didn't understand.

An emptiness that he didn't know how to fill—even though there had some offers from those around him to help him try.

It was tempting…

But Ron had an idea that if he were to accept any of those offers, it might upset the delicate balance of the universe that had coalesced around him. And, as scary as Shego could be when her nose was out of joint, he had the feeling that some plasma-powered payback could actually be the least of his worries if it all went south.

So, it was best—or certainly a lot safer and a lot less awkweird—if there wasn't a naked Bonnie Rockwaller in his bed.

More restful, too: that little pup-tent down south that had been on its way to becoming something worthy of a three-ring circus could now sink back down into a state of nothingness. Yeah, nothingness was the best option for him, right now.

Still, it had been bondiggity running into Penny, again…even if lunch had turned into an unmitigated disaster!

And there—there it was! Let a woman get a little too close and death and destruction followed close behind!

_Yori…_

Whoops! Like allied forces hitting the beach at Normandy, Bonnie Rockwaller was suddenly back and storming his position under the covers!

**RSVP**

"Every time it would make a move for us—me and the zoo guy," Penny was explaining, "Ron would get back up and distract it."

"Ya go with your strengths," Shego murmured.

"If he'd only stayed down, he wouldn't have got hurt half so bad."

"Maybe," Vivian allowed. "The problem with zombies is you don't know what really motivates them."

"Especially monkey zombies," Tara giggled from behind the bar.

Shego glared at Dr. Porter as she opened her mouth. "Don't," she warned.

"Well, that's easy," Zita observed, drawing on her vast movie experience from working at the local cinema. "Zombies want brains!"

"Doesn't explain why it was going after Ron," Monique mock grumbled.

Yoshi stared at the black beauty. "That is terrible!"

"Gallows humor," Heather observed. "But, speaking of brains, that reminds me: you kill a zombie with a head shot. Or some kind of major head wound. At least that was what they said in this movie I was in a couple of years ago…"

Britina nodded. "The Zombie Diaries," she aaffirmed.

Penny shook her head. "Yeah, but no. Two more zookeepers ran up, both with guns."

"Real guns or trank guns?" Britina looked at the others who were looking at her. "What? I'm getting my degree in zoology. I'm not going to be a teen pop star forever."

"Real guns," Penny answered. "And these guys must have seen zombie movies because they both took several head shots. I guess the autopsy removed the gorilla's brain or something because it didn't work. That's when Ron ran away."

"What?" Shego was shocked. "You're shitting me!"

Hana squirmed in Yoshi's arms. "Bad word! No!" she admonished the green gladiatrix with a shake of her tiny finger.

"Really?" the chastened woman asked. "She's listening to a story about how her big brother is getting turned into banana pudding and she gets upset because I use the S-word?"

"Well, he wasn't really running away," Penny corrected. "He was just running over to the groundskeepers shed. He was back in less than a minute with a chainsaw."

"Oooooh!" the girls all said.

"Attaboy, Ronnie," slurred the disembodied voice. "Go all Ash on its ash…asp…ask…somethin'…"

Shego got up to check on the still horizontal Tara and suddenly realized that Bonnie had not returned to the common room. Her mouth became a grim slit and she slipped into the hallway.

**RSVP**

He wanted to say something.

Even if it was the single word, 'no.'

But he couldn't.

First of all, it was as if someone else was in the driver's seat. Like someone else was in control of his body and he was just a passive observer, watching from a distance.

But that was probably an excuse.

It just felt so good!

Bonnie was straddling him, now and leaning down with a bottle of lotion in one hand and rubbing the cool balm into his chest with the other. It numbed the sting of his cuts and scrapes and soothed the bruised tissue beneath his skin.

And, of course, there was the view. Bonnie was tan…everywhere! He knew this because he could see…_everywhere!_

It was well-known that Bonnie Rockwaller had a killer body—her cheerleader outfit, not to mention her itsy-bitsy, teeny-weenie bikini that she wore to the cheerleader carwashes, attested to that. But without those two tiny triangles to restrain her bobbing breasts, her body had become "killer" in a most literal way: Ron felt as if he had died and gone to heaven!

Those two perfect globes of flesh were presently defying gravity in a way that could only be explained as an optical illusion. The more he stared at them, the harder it was to comprehend how they could just…_float_ there! Trying not to look any further (and jump-start the tent-building process all over again, he forced his gaze down and looked at her tight and toned tummy. Like most cheerleaders, her core was incredible: muscled and taut, yet she had just enough extra flesh to round the angles into curves and provide an athletic softness that made her look and feel like sculpted butter and cinnamon. Her navel was a deep oval that—wait. _Was that sparkly thing a little face of some kind?_

She shifted her weight on him and he was reminded that she straddled him bareback. The sensation was amazing!

And now she was scooting down past his waist to his hips. She was raising up a little and reaching back—

The door flew open and a flaming green nimbus flared around the obsidian silhouette of a goddess of death.

"Rockwaller!" it bellowed.

**RSVP**

"Even after he had turned it into monkey mash, it continued to twitch," Penny finished, as pale as a ghost.

"But..." Heather looked puzzled. "If it couldn't come after you anymore…"

"Then why did you run in here and tell us to lock the doors and windows?" Britina asked.

Before the teal-eyed blonde could answer there were several loud bangs behind them.

As a group they turned and looked.

Monkeys were clinging to the windows and glaring at them with a simian hatred that was palpable. A couple opened their mouths wide, baring two-inch fangs!

A cacophony of shrieks and screams sounded outside and several new monkeys smacked hard against the glass.

A cracking sound was heard.

"Shih me!" Hana said solemnly.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE:<strong>** "Bedtime for Bon Bon" is spoof on the title "Bedtime for Bonzo," a 1951 movie starring future president Ronald Reagan and a chimpanzee named Bonzo.**

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><p><strong>Authors  Notes:** **_You know, when I first started this tale (back in chapter 1 of RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron, I wasn't specifically planning on a standard "harem" story. I still question whether a bunch of girls like-liking a single guy counts as a "harem" format if the guy doesn't like-like them all back. But, be that as it may, I question whether a harem story where everyone IS willing to share—is a very believable conceit. Oh, don't get me wrong, they can be very fun to read—without naming names, I've come to enjoy several stories here in that particular vein. But, while this story has drifted closer to the harem concept than I had initially planned (quit pushing me, damn you!), I can't quite bring myself to having a harmonious "Big Love" sort of scenario. Maybe a couple of girls (of a certain temperament) might be induced to share, but with a group this size, there's bound to be competition, hurt feelings, and shortened life expectancies. And, even if Ron was able to navigate the perilous waters around him, Dark Kim is bound to be seriously tweaked!_**

**_So…I'm sort of curious to see where this all goes, along with the rest of you! R~13_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 26<strong>

_RearAdmiral 10/1/12 . chapter 26_

Nice.

on A/N 3, Rippy . Solid points, actually. Have you considered rotation? Choo-choo train chedule... :)

_**They used to say that Mussolini made the trains run on time…and look where that got him…Woo! Woo! R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 102/12 . chapter 26_

Memories of a couple of 'deprived' members of this group seem to be in the process of returning. Those banished from the pain of loss seem to be trying to return. Wonder what will come from their recovery.

So some recovery from the attack at the zoo may lead to more mayhem between two of the strongest young women in Ron's group? And while the pursuers have arrived...

Oh Shih me, indeed.

CB73

_**Ah, mayhem! Hopefully this will distract Shego and Bonnie for awhile. If not, they'll already be armed and filled with bloodlust! Perhaps Ron can convince them to settle this in a civilized contest: if you bring the wading pool, I'll make the Jello… R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 102/12 . chapter 26_

in order  
>chainsaw gooood<br>swearing baby funny  
>monkey ninjas vs monkey zombies<p>

_**Just where are those danged monkey ninjas anyway? Oh well, we got somethin' better than a measily ole chainsaw… R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 810/13 . chapter 26_

What two reviews in a single day, mannnnnnn you are SO lucky Rippy. So we have a gorilla that we'd have to bury in about twenty five boxes...I guess that does make it easier since they are so big...hummmmmm maybe they could ship the boxes off somewhere...I bet it would be cheaper.

ST-103

**_Or we could just render him down into Gorilla Glue. ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 810/13 . chapter 26_

I'd quite forgotten about the attack of the zombie simians. Why did I forget about the attack of the zombie simians? How could I forget about the attack of the zombie simians?!

**_Good question...I...got nothin'. R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 99/13 . chapter 26 _

Ok...I guess that A/N kind of answered my question... and stress, Kind Of!

**_There's basically two reasons why I won't answer certain readers' questions. Either I don't want to give away a surprise ahead of time...and I figure a number of readers would actually be sorry if I answered some of their questions ahead of time. Or I'm not really sure of the answer, myself. I started out with most of the story worked out in my head but it has grown to a size where there's a lot that can happen that I hadn't originally planned on. So, I figure some questions are "rhetorical" on the part of the reader. And some things we'll learn together as the story unfolds. Yikes. R~13_**

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 26 . 103/14_

Very nice chapter. Great emotions and characterisation of Bonnie. Ron should try harder not to take advantage of her emotional state. His dead wife still haunts him. Shego was rather funny she wouldn't shave just for any man. Ron considering moving on was powerful.

Looking forward to next chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Thanks CCS! But, really? Half my readers are yelling at me because Ron won't "engage" with the ladies and now you're telling me to take it slow? ;-) Nah, I know what you mean: lots of brokenness going around here and going to the next level is probably not a good idea right now...as we're going to find out soon! Duh duh duhnnnnnn! R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 26 . 104/14_

Q: How many Romulans does it take to change a light bulb?

A: 151. One to change it and 150 to self-destruct the ship in disgrace.

_**How many psychiatrists does it take to change a light bulb? One. But the light bulb really has to want to change. R~13**_

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><p><em>cabrera1234 chapter 26 . 104/14_

oh man this story geting better abd better

_**It's all the sex and violence, man. Sex (almost) this chapter, violence next... R~13**_


	27. Welcome to the Monkey House

**Author's Notes****_: Really?_**

**_This is what I'm reduced to?_**

**_Getting reviews in the form of light bulb jokes?_**

**_Well, at least DF is dropping me note to let me know that someone is reading._**

**_How about the rest of you?_**

**_If you like the story enough to keep reading, at least let me know occasionally._**

**_Maybe a knock-knock joke or something._**

**_Knock knock. Who's there...?_**

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><p><strong><em>Okay, boys &amp; girls, here's your chance to figure out how the planets are about to realign. Guess or vote on the final five for Ron in this complex web of weird relationships. Who should drop out and who should stay the course? We're not talking about the final person(s) in his heart. Just which five should advance to the next bracket…and the showdown with the Dark Kim Alliance.<em>**

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 1 vote**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The Return of Camille Leon – 2 votes**_

_**Finding out where (and with whom) Cousin Larry ends up – 1 vote**_

_**No other reader requests to date…**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _Blah, blah, blah, _**_work of fan fiction_**_. Blah, blah, blah, _**_no rights_**_. Blah, blah, blah, _**_no profit_**_. Blah!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 27– Welcome to the Monkey House<strong>

He was pulling on a pair of pants when Shego reappeared in the open door to his bedroom.

Everything still hurt and he moved like an old man—but at least he was hurting a little less now and actually able to move without assistance.

"I do hope you didn't scorch the walls or carpet chasing Bonnie down the hall," he said as he threaded a large, heavy-duty belt through the belt loops on his cargos. "I'm paying two shifts of contractors just to finish the original plans. I don't want to pay additional overtime for damage repairs."

"Everything's fine," she said as she watched him from the doorway. She knew that he was nearly six years younger than her but seeing his shirtless torso, layered in lean muscle mass, she felt that divide narrow considerably. "Should you be up?"

"Don't seem to be able to get any peace and quiet right now," he answered, dragging a black tactical shirt over his head and slipping his arms through the mid-length sleeves. "Needed a breather. Got it. And now I need to get presentable for our guests."

"Guests?" She arched an eyebrow.

The faint sounds of feminine shrieks echoed up the stairway in the outer corridor.

"Ah, they're already here. Must have hitch-hiked." Moving to the wall, he took down a slightly curved sword in a wooden scabbard: a Japanese katana. "Monkeys," he growled, "why does it always have to be monkeys?"

**RSVP**

Yoshiko wanted to stay and help mount a first line of defense but she had a different set of obligations: more than nanny to Ron Stoppable's baby sister, she was the sworn guardian of the Han. Bundling up the little girl, she headed for the corridor leading to the elevators. Vivian was right behind her.

Monique was pulling up on her single crutch to stand when Zita appeared at her side. "Do you need help?" she asked her friend (and potential rival).

The fashionista paused and then handed her a set of keys. "If you don't mind making a run to my apartment upstairs, I'd really appreciate it if you could bring me the lockbox under my bed and the cane leaning up in the corner just inside the front door. Then I can stay here and relax."

The Hispanic girl gave her a look but nodded and took off.

Heather and Britina looked at each other with expressions bordering on panic. "What do we do?" they asked each other in unison.

"Help…" Tara croaked from behind the bar. "I've fallen and I can't get up…"

**RSVP**

Once again the soldering iron was lodged in Dr. Drakken's left nostril and Kim Possible's finger was resting on the on/off switch.

"Tell me the truth, Drewbie," she said coldly. "I want to know how Dr. Renton escaped from a lab on lockdown—a lab that you shared with her, by the way. And I don't want to hear any nonsense about black holes opening up in the air and sucking her into another dimension!"

The blue-hued scientist desperately racked his brain as he felt half of his nose hairs approach the melting point. If the truth wasn't good enough for the insane little minx, then he needed a lie. And a convincing one, to boot!

The problem was, his imagination only seemed to work on a grandiose scale and every possible fabrication that he could think of made the black hole tunnel story look like something a third grader would make up. In other words, if she didn't believe the truth, any lies that he could come up with would be even more unbelievable.

And she had already reminded him that his nostrils weren't the only places that she could probe and singe…

Adrena Lynn popped up behind the furious former redhead to give him a reprieve.

"Sorry to interrupt your fun-time, boss," she said. "But the kid's missing, too. And I think his chair is gone, as well."

Dark Kim threw the soldering iron across the room where it embedded itself, point first, into the chest of Ron Stoppable.

A Ron Stoppable that didn't flinch and looked very much like his high school senior year book picture.

"Tell Perkins to meet me in the Computer Center: we have security feeds to review!" She whirled back to Drakken and barked: "Get back to work! I need to get inside his fortress! As soon as possible! Eyes and ears, Dr. D! And those robot killers had better work on a more permanent basis!"

She spun again and stalked toward the door. "And where's Dementer?" she yelled. "I swear! Running an evil empire is like managing a daycare center! Half of these so-called super-villains should be riding the short bus!"

The door to the robotics lab slammed and locked behind her.

Drakken un-cringed and looked about the lab. The "package" was no longer hidden behind the door: with any luck, it was on its way to its destination.

**RSVP**

Betty Director's hands shook as she tried to fit her key into the lock on her apartment door.

Barely an hour before she had stormed out of her former office at Global Justice—no, check that: inwardly she had been storming; outwardly she had departed with all of the calm and dignity that she could muster.

Which wasn't easy because, not only had she been demoted, but her very competency had been called into question!

Apparently TPTB (The Powers That Be) had decided that she was a little "too young" to be in charge of an international agency—never mind that it was only her body that had regressed in age and that she still had the many years of experience in her mind. Well, not only had they disregarded that fact, they seemed unsure as to whether the—erm—"unknown cause" of her physical transformation had altered her mental processes, as well! This despite the battery of tests that they had given her that should have proved her continued fitness for the job.

Of course, part of the problem might well be the Team Possible issue. A debate had raged for years over the policy of using underage American teenagers to apprehend international supervillains—even though they had a mission-outcome ratio far higher than her best agents. She had thought the matter settled, once and for all, with the victory over the Lowardian invasion.

But she had forgotten the number one mantra of government bureaucracy: _everything_ is political.

She didn't know if the PTB were paranoid over a being having as much apparent power as one Ronald Dean Stoppable or if they just didn't believe the data.

But here she was, demoted from the top spot in Global Justice until further notice. And she'd been given a choice. Take all of those years of accumulated vacation days…or take an undercover assignment for the new, "acting" director.

They wanted her to spy on Ron Stoppable.

She smiled grimly as she considered her new mission. Any excuse to get close to him was a bonus in her book. And better her "spying" on him than some other, presumably less sympathetic agent. She'd even be perfectly positioned to warn him if the new administration decided to get "hinky."

But, first things first: if she was going to "get close" to him, she had to get past all of the distraction that currently surrounded him. She moved to her lingerie drawer and began to prep for the next phase of her "assignment."

**RSVP**

Dr. Vivian Porter dumped the contents of her suitcase out onto the cot next to her workbench. Snatching up the plasma generators, she grabbed the unplugged the spare power harness from the Mr. Fusion™ unit, and slipped them over her harem outfit without bothering to change. The harness criss-crossed her upper torso like a pair of glowing, golden bandoleers. She slipped the bracers over her wrists and then picked up a tablet work table and activated the remote program as she headed back out into the corridor.

**RSVP**

Bonnie Rockwaller sat in the stairwell and struggled back into her harem outfit. It was better than being naked but she really needed to grab her suitcase and find a few minutes to put on some walk-around clothes.

Or "run-away" clothes if Shego was still mad the next time she saw her.

And why wouldn't she still be mad?

The ex-villainess had walked in just as Bonnie was about to…make her big move.

Another couple of minutes and she might have hit a grand-slam home-run!

No matter which baseball-sex-slang lexicon you preferred to use!

And maybe, just maybe, she could have secured enough Stoppable DNA to clone her own little Ronnie!

She sighed as she struggled to fit the girls back into the sequined brassiere. The problem was the sex would not have been fully consensual.

Ron had still been pretty much out of it and she was, in fact, taking advantage of him while he was only half conscious.

Never mind what Shego thought, how would Ron feel about ole Bon Bon trying to rape him?

Way to go, Rockwaller, she thought, brushing at a fresh tear on her cheek. You can't even try to be nice to him without fucking it up!

Now she needed to find redemption for trying to find redemption!

She arose and ran down the rest of the stairs. When she came out, she found herself in one of the basement levels and ran across a work crew, cowering in the underground pool area.

"Are they gone, yet?" one of the carpenters asked, too nervous to actually leer at the vision of curvy brunette right out of the pages of the Arabian Nights.

"Is who gone?" she snapped, a little tweaked that she wasn't getting the expected response from a male work crew.

"The mo-monkeys," he stammered, looking around fearfully.

Bonnie stared at him for the space of six whole seconds and then put her hands on her shapely and mostly uncovered hips.

"Oh, hell no!" she said.

**RSVP**

He wanted to take the elevator but his tactical experience told him that it was almost always a bad choice.

Under assault conditions, power can be interrupted and retreating or having an advantage in going to the enemy was always disadvantageous when you're inside of a metal box.

So they took the stairs.

It hurt.

Moving hurt. Walking hurt. Walking down stairs hurt even more.

He told himself that the extra effort was loosening him up for the battle to come. That it was getting his heart pumping and blood circulating and joints—

_It still hurt!_

But he hurt a little less now.

They rounded the corner on the second floor landing and stopped.

The stairway below was filled with monkeys.

**RSVP**

At her insistence, Heather and Britina had helped Tara over to the window that was cracked and giving way. Along the way they had acquired her medical kit which she opened under the casement and began to rummage through while the actress and the singer did their best to keep her from toppling back over.

"Um, shouldn't we be on the other side of the room?" Heather asked as she heard a snap from inside the bag.

"Or the other side of the building?" Britina qualified as a quiet whine begin to rise in pitch.

"Naw…" Tara slurred. "Thish is where acshon is! Ummm…_clear!_"

The glass gave way and a couple of baboons came barreling through just as the sloshed blonde straightened up with the "paddles" of a cardiac defibrillator in her hands. She pressed the triggers just as the furry assailants reached her.

_**BAMF!**_

Two furry projectiles went shooting back out of the window as if shot from a double-barreled canon.

"Oopsie!" Tara giggled, "Time to recharge!"

Her two helpers looked at each other and went scrambling for their purses. By the time they were able to pull out their tasers, a big, hulking chimpanzee was climbing through the broken window.

It reached for the blonde paramedic but she lurched to the side and it missed.

That was when a large butcher knife embedded itself in the ape's left eye and it fell back outside.

Everyone turned and looked at Zita who had cut through the kitchen on her return trip. The Hispanic hottie had another knife between her clenched teeth and two more tucked through her belt loops at her hips. She moved to Monique and handed her the metal lockbox and the walking cane that she had requested.

"Gun safe?" Zita guessed.

Monique nodded. "Daddy taught me to shoot."

"Thought he was super-religious."

"He is. Prays for me to be safe every night. Also says: God helps them that helps themselves. A religious pragmatist, my daddy."

"And walking stick?"

Monique smiled. "A little something the 'rents picked up a few years ago in Chinatown. Thought I might 'raise a little cane'. How about you?"

Zita patted the sides of her jeans. "Pocket rockets. My brothers are very protective of their little sis."

The chimpanzee popped back up in the window frame and hissed at the room's occupants. It did not bother to pull the blade from its ruined left eye.

"Zombie monkeys," Tara hissed back. "Why did it have to be zombie monkeys?" And pressed the cardiac paddles to the chimp's ears.

_**BAMF!**_

The knife shot back out of the creature's eye and it dropped back out of sight.

**RSVP**

"Shouldn't I like bring a resume or somethin'?" Brick Flagg asked his offensive lineman.

"Naw," Big Mike answered, as they headed off campus. "I know the foreman. He says this job is really big and they're running double shifts and being paid lots of overtime. But he says they're still short on workers and can even use a couple of unskilled stiffs like ourselves."

"What about our class schedules? And if this job goes into late summer, we got pre-season practices on top of everything else."

"Don't worry, Flagg. Joe told me he can be flexible. And if it don't work out, you can always quit."

The Upperton U backup quarterback shook his head. "In this economy? 'Sides, I gotta pay for all of the extra tutoring and most jobs don't fit college schedules and football seasons."

"Well, let's just see what they need. Good thing the place's just a couple a' blocks away…"

Big Mike stopped suddenly and Brick, who was walking slightly behind him suddenly ran into a massive wall of muscle.

A little dazed, it took him a moment to figure out just what he was looking at.

"Dude," he said slowly, "tell me I'm not seeing like an army of monkeys. And what are they doing with that telephone pole?"

**RSVP**

Shego lit up and was about to let fly when Ron grabbed her arm.

"Wait!" he said. "They're mine."

Seeing the black, shinobishōzoku that the stairway simian army was wearing, she quickly extinguished her hands.

But not before seeing Ron withdraw his own hand with a wince.

"Guys," he said, softly and sadly. "You do me great honor. And I would like nothing better than to lead you into battle."

He dropped to one knee and Shego couldn't tell if it was to make a gesture of respect or because he couldn't stay on his feet.

"But we're dealing with something unknown, here," he continued. "Bad enough that we're going up against monkeys and it could be tough telling friend from foe in the heat of battle. But something has turned these guys into undead monkey zombies and it would be really, really bad if you got turned into zoo-zombies, too!"

Shego repressed a sudden shiver at the thought. A big gorilla zombie? Formidable. Dozens of smaller and more agile monkey undead? Possibly unstoppable. It was such a grim thought that she couldn't even work up a smirk for the double pun she had just pulled off.

"So, I'm askin' ya to pull back, guys, and protect our flanks," Ron said in a weary voice. Cover the windows and doors away from the main entrance. And watch over my little sister. If anything happens to me—well—Hana will be _Jōnin,_ then."

They stared at him silently until he gave them a brief nod, then suddenly dispersed like inky, dark shadows in a sudden sunrise.

Ron knelt for another minute, his head bowed as if in deep meditation and Shego fidgeted.

Then he spoke: "Uhhh...I could use a hand up, here…haven't got all day…"

**RSVP**

The front doors shuddered under the repetitious impacts of the makeshift battering ram. Already weakened from the previous week's plasma battle between Shego and the mysterious lookalike intruder, the hinges were starting to buckle on one side.

Ron Stoppable staggered into the big room and quickly assessed the situation. "You girls get out of here!" he yelled, standing in front of the entryway. He raised his sword over his head and said calmly: "I've got this."

Zita stepped up next to him, pulling a pair of Glock-26s from her pockets. "_We've_ got this, hombre," she told him as she slide-cocked the two miniature handguns nicknamed the "Baby Glock" or "Pocket Rockets."

Monique had unlocked the small gun safe and pulled out a Sig Sauer P220ST. "You need to move a little to the right," she called out. "You're blocking my line of sight."

Shego was a few seconds behind Ron in entering the main room and took this all in as she circled the perimeter. Instantly assessing that no one was likely to fall back and that her full powers were hampered here, she ran and dove through the broken window, hoping to deal with the battering ram outside before the doors were breached.

Tucking and rolling as she hit the ground, she plowed through a mass of macaques before regaining her feet. She tried to get off a shot at the orangutans ramming the broken telephone pole against the entrance but she was instantly swarmed by a cartload of Capuchins. "Aargh!" she roared. "Do I look like an organ grinder?"

Actually, she looked like a simian sasquatch. A moment later there was an emerald burst and her "fur coat" exploded like a monkey hand grenade. She was too late, however, as the orangs were finally able to smash through one of the doors.

Shego tried to fight her way over to block the entrance but there were just too many beasties between her and her goal: apes poured into the building like there was a half-price banana sale going on inside.

Sensing a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye, she dodged and managed to avoid a hurtling furball that zoomed past and went splat against the outer wall. Whirling about, she saw the biggest man she'd ever seen, wielding a broken stop sign like a baseball bat, smacking monkeys through the air, left and right. A good-sized blond man was beside him, picking up chunks of broken curbing and hurling them like some kind of crazy quarterback, staving-in ape skulls with uncanny accuracy.

At this point, a couple of cars came screeching up from both ends of the street, bumping up over the curb and onto the sidewalks, mowing down row after row of simian rioters.

Betty Director lept from the first vehicle and used her service pistol to cut a path around to the back where she popped the trunk and produced a Mossberg 590A1s law enforcement combo shotgun with pistol-grip, sling, and red-dot sight. As she opened up on the screeching hoard, the other vehicle spilled two redheads and a blonde.

Back inside, the lobby was filling up rather quickly.

Both Monique and Zita made each shot count but their supply of ammo was not limitless and the undead nature of their foes meant they could endure what would normally be fatal wounds only to pop back up for more!

Once her gun was empty, Zita reached into her purse for her taser. But like Heather and Britina—not to mention Tara's use of the defibrillator—the battery charges weren't exactly endless, either. No one had to tell them to fall back when they ran out of juice.

Monique, however, held her ground. Once the Sig Sauer was empty, she grabbed her cane. Giving it a two-handed twist, she pulled it apart. A wicked, twenty-seven inch blade emerged from the lower part of the weaponized walking stick and she began to lay about her position like an ebony cuisinart.

As the others retreated to the kitchen to grab more cutlery, the back stairs door to the basement boomed open and a disheveled Bonnie Rockwaller strode into the room wielding a fire axe. She began swinging her weapon with wild abandon, splattering the walls and furniture with minced monkey parts, shrieking with each arc: "We! Are! Not! Open! For! Business! Come! Back! Later!"

A couple of workmen followed behind her, lugging an air compressor and plugging it in. Their leader, a dark-haired man with a heavy five o'clock shadow and wearing red coveralls with the name Joe embroidered over the pocket, picked up a nail gun and began to literally nail their zombie foes to the walls from across the room.

Suddenly the room lit up as bursts of orange plasma began to set furry forms on fire: Vivian Porter had entered the fray! As she passed Zita, she tossed her the remote she'd brought down from her workbench. "I hear you're pretty good with cybernetics," she told the diminutive Latina. "I've got a laser-equipped drone up on the roof. See what you can do…" And continued on, making a fiery sweep across the room.

Ron, himself, laid about him like a man possessed. The katana was a practice sword, not the Lotus Blade, itself. And though it did not sing in his hands like that mystical weapon, they were still a pretty deadly combo.

Back outside the battle was being fought to a near draw when suddenly the apes and monkeys began to hoot and scream like a lunatic pipe-organ. The hair on their hairy hides began to rise as if some giant Van de Graaff generator had been switched on. A heavy scent of ozone filled the air and there was a crackling sound all around.

Then the thickest cluster of beasts exploded in a bright, purple-blue flash and a snap-crackle-pop sound like the breakfast cereal of the Frost Giants. Standing out in the street, a small, sky-blue woman with hair like braided wires, slowly dropped to her knees and then keeled over completely.

A short distance away, hidden on the roof of an adjacent building, a man wearing an African tribal mask, cursed in annoyance, breaking his chant. His zombie army below, staggered and began to stumble about aimlessly. Before he could resume the chant he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned just in time to see a gloved fist smack into his face, shattering the wooden ceremonial mask, and driving him to his knees.

Dazedly, he looked up at the smirking face of a woman who looked uncannily like Kim Possible—albeit a little older and less smiley, with black hair and red highlights.

"Hello, Bates," she said. "Miss me?"

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><p><strong>AN 2: ****_The chapter title, "Welcome to the Monkey House" (finally), is the title of a Kurt Vonnegut short story and a collection of short stories in book form. Do I really need to explain the reason for the title here?_**

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><p><strong>AN 3: ****_As I mentioned before, tell me who should be winnowed down to the final five. Extra points for telling me why!_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 27<strong>

_Sentinel103 10/6/12 . chapter 27_

Ya know there isn't anything quite like the sound of a 590 being cycled. It really gets everybody's attention. So it seems everybody was packing. And I wonder how Bates stepped up, never mind I'm sure Anti-Kim will get to the bottom of it.

ST-103

_**Anti-Kim? I like the sound of that! Sort of sounds like a sinister "Aunty Kim"—as in a creepy old British suspense tale. R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 106/12 . chapter 27_

fun chapter Ron seems to be making people badass by him just being around like the Doctor. Rick seems smarter now he in college which follows the show.  
>Penny should drop out partly because shes had less time but more because the weridness will freak her out, she had a normal life untill this morning.<br>Vivian should drop out she now has friends that arent machines and that was what she really wanted to have people rather than machines.  
>Monquie because thety would never work except for being friends.<br>Ann will drop out because she knows deep down it wrong.  
>Yori needs to stay in the running like Kim for the obivous reasons so I'm not going to in to them.<br>Bonnie needs to keep trying for redemption.  
>Shego ditto<br>Jess with her crush that ron has always known about  
>Tara just for the sake of drama<p>

_**I'd kind of planned for "Team Stoppable" to coalesce a little sooner than this but I think we're starting to get there now. The ladies just needed a few engagements to move them toward some serious planning and training. And I assume you meant Joss not Jess (as in Jessica) so I've tallied your votes with that in mind. Let me know if you meant otherwise. R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 106/12 . chapter 27_

A stranger fight you have never seen...LOL!

Quite the mayhem there, and I wonder about the late entry to the scene, too.

CB73

_**Answers await. I think… R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 107/12 . chapter 27_

Final Five

Shego - Personal favorite, plus all the aspects you mentioned in the PM.

Yori - Pregnancy conclusion, and she's his ninja-wife. Do I need to say more?

Electronique - Honestly, I just want to see more of her since she's such a rarely used character. I also might have a thing for accents.

Bonnie Tara - Maybe this is cheating, counting them as one, but I between the character development for Bonnie, the long-standing crush of Tara, and the best friend dynamic, I think this one would be fun to explore. Or bring to a conclusion, either way.

Kim - While I have no desire to see Ron actually end up with Kim, her part is integral to the story, and must be resolved one way or another.

Of course, I can't wait to see the story continue, regardless of who gets to the next bracket.

_**Since this is the vote for Ron's "Final Five" and it doesn't necessarily follow that Kim will end up with Ron, I'll take your 2 votes for Bonnie & Tara, and toss out your non-vote for Kim. Let me know if you want to change your mind. R~13**_

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 811/13 . chapter 27_

More surprises? Certainly its one of the better uses I've seen a de-frib rig being put to. Nice conduct of the little monkey ninjas, btw; cute little guys, the lot of them.

The simian zombie massacre was a nice diversion as well. Can't help but feel a bit shaken by it all.

**_Actually, I cribbed the debrillator idea from the other novel I'm working on. The hero uses it on the railing of a hospital bed where he's being attacked by the Grey Sisters of Greek myth. The result sends them flying in what he describes as a "hag grenade." R~13_**

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><p><em>newboy 811/13 . chapter 27 _

Yori, Monique, Eletronique, Shego, Tara, Bonnie. I know I am voting for six, but I cannot choose it further down than that.

**_Sorry newboy but you went over the limit. I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill one of them off, now. Or, at least, very soon... _**

**_;-) _**

**_R~13_**

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><p><em>zafnak 811/13 . chapter 27_

Ron's Top 5:

Yori

Shego

Tara

Bonnie

and lastly, Betty Director as the Dark Horse

**_Interesting... R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 811/13 . chapter 27 _

"The best plan is the one made when the battle is over." - Field Marshal Rommel

Q: So does this mean that Ron would have a problem with the Monkees? Hinky? Quoting Abby are we? You know if Shego had a mustache, she would look like an organ grinder, ha-ha. That bit about being an organ grinder and sasquatch is still just as funny as the first time that I read it. BTW: The previous Rommel quotes were referring to Ron's fight with the Gorilla.

**_Of course the old Ron would have had a problem: people say they monkey around. Yep, Hinky. Although I was using the term long before the charming Ms. Sciuto arrived on the scene. Don't worry about Shego's moustache: she waxes. Ah! Did you know that Erwin was known as the-but, of course you do._**

**_After the battle is over? I think we're still going to be far from a good plan much less a "best" one... R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 99/13 . chapter 27 _

Please explain this final five thing...I'm not understanding it entirely.

**_Well, we've got a bunch of girls who have coalesced around Ron...and it looks like they're on a collision course with Dark Kim and her minions. I'm curious as to who the readers want to see in his inner circle of allies, companions, whatever you want to call them. This story has a large cast and sooner or later I need to peel a few more away and focus on the main players. Who do you see as the five most worthy or interesting allies for Ron? R~13_**

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><p><em>sparrowhawk63 chapter 27 . 429/14_

Ron's allies? OK, that helps a bit...  
>Shego<br>Bonnie  
>Tara<br>Monique  
>Zita<p>

_**Going for the core! Thanks! R~13**_

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><p><em>cabrera1234 chapter 27 . 104/14_

dont worry i still read your work

_**Thanks! Always nice to hear from a new reader! The rest of you guys should PM cabrera1234 and thank him because he's inspired me to post another chapter right now! R~13**_


	28. Aftermath

**Author's Notes****_: So, as I post Chapter 28, here are the polls as they stand now_**

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 1 vote**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The Return of Camille Leon - 2 votes**_

_**What's the sitch with Cousin Larry?* – 1 vote**_

_*** Actually, I don't consider this to be a request in the same manner as the others. It's more of a query than a request and, as I was going to get to Cousin Larry (as well as some other series characters who haven't made an appearance, yet, I'll be taking this one back off of the "request" tote board and reserve the space for specific sitches or scenes that the readers would like to see. Cousin Larry is warming up in the bullpen even as we speak...**_

_**The votes for the "Final Five":**_

_**Shego – 6 votes**_

_**Tara – 5 votes**_

_**Bonnie – 5 votes**_

_**Yori – 4 votes**_

_**Betty – 2 votes**_

_**Electronique – 1 vote**_

_**Monique - 1 vote**_

_**Vivian – 1 vote**_

_**Joss – 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _Is this still required? See the FanFiction site standard disclaimer. Or the disclaimers for all of the other chapters in this yarn._

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><p><strong>Chapter 28 – Aftermath<strong>

And, just like that, the battle was over.

Monkeys dropped like marionettes whose strings were cut. Zombie monkeys were suddenly inanimate monkey corpses.

Ron and Bonnie continued to hack and slash at the furry lumps for a few more moments and Shego lit more than a few baboon bonfires before they were convinced that the threat was over. Everyone else took a step back and began to assess the damage.

A quickly sobering Tara rushed about, treating cuts and scratches and bites without realizing that rivulets of blood were running down her legs from her wounded back.

Penny crawled out from table she had hidden under, looked around, and promptly threw up.

Shaking off his battle lust, Ron did a quick check of everyone inside before working his way toward the front doors. He was met there by Shego who assured him that all of the attacking army was down and out. "Casualties?" she asked.

"Everyone's up and conscious," he told her.

Tara picked that moment to collapse on top of Monique while treating her for a shoulder bite.

As everyone rushed to her side, Betty, Anne, and Jessica came through the front door while Joss climbed over a mass of huddled fur to come in through the broken window.

"Lets get her up on the table," Ron suggested and the others gently picked her up and laid her face down on Monique's table, careful of the wounds on her back. Heather called 911 while Zita fetched the first-aid kit.

Shego looked at Ron. "Can't you do something? Do your blue thing?"

He stared down at the bloody mess that was his friend's back with a bleak expression. "I can't. I don't have—" He spread his hands helplessly and bowed his head. A moment passed and then he slowly looked up and over at his former foe: "but you might."

"What?"

He grabbed her wrist. "Light up."

She tried to pull away. "You're crazy!"

"Maybe." He smiled grimly. "Not normal, certainly. Never be normal!" He shook her wrist that he held in an iron grip. "Humor me: light up."

"I'll burn you!"

He leaned in close and whispered. "A little secret, Meanie Greenie: you can't hurt me. Even if you tried." He leaned back. "So, flame on, Jenny Storm. Let's light this candle!"

Slowly, carefully, reluctantly, she allowed the power to seep into her fingers. A green light began to form around her hand. As the nimbus of plasma grew, the black and dark emerald spots began to appear inside area of effect and wisps of "flames" began to peel away from her fingertips.

Something touched—enveloped her hand!

She looked down and saw Ron's hand pressed against hers, his palm against hers, his fingers intertwined with her fingers, closing into a double-fist. The green energies flared brightly, like a fire doused with gasoline. She looked up and saw the grimace on his face and tried to pull away again but he held her fast! His eyes were closed now and beads of sweat were bursting from his forehead and running down his face.

"You still have some of what we've shared," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Relax…let it come toward me…"

"I—I don't—what—"

His brow furrowed and slowly, almost imperceptibly, the green fire from her hand began to turn teal, then sea green, and then cyan, shading into a hue that bordered between aquamarine and turquoise. The glow softened and Ron unclenched his fingers, sliding his hand around to place his palm over the back of her hand and entwine his fingers with hers, once more.

Turning, he pulled her to Tara by her flickering hand. "We're just going to hold our hands over her back, for now," he told her. "We'll just hold them our over her back. An inch or two above, I think…"

As their hands hovered over the young woman's back, her bleeding seemed to slow. A few minutes passed and it appeared to have stopped completely.

Shego heaved a sigh of relief but Ron wasn't finished yet. "We're going to make contact, now," he told her. "I'd like to relax my hand but you have to promise me that you won't pull away. No matter what."

"But—but her bleeding's stopped—"

Ron's eyes flashed green. "Did you hear that, Heather? Shego says Tara's fine. You can call off that ambulance."

"No!" Shego gazed into her partner's face. _Whoa! Why are his eyes green?_ "Just tell me what to do."

He studied her face, in turn, looking for the resolve he would need from her in the coming minutes. Nodding, he said: "Move your hand so that we're reversed. Your hand on top of mine. Anchor your fingers between mine. Hold me gently—but don't let go, no matter what."

She gave him a look of promise. "I…won't."

Her hand moved to cup his and he moaned a little, the sweat reappearing on his face, and she was certain that she was hurting him in some way. Still, she had promised…

She followed his hand down to Tara's shoulders where it rested lightly, the faintest touch, no more weight than that of a baby sparrow.

"We're just going to wipe the blood away," he whispered. "Very, very gently…"

She felt his hand move under hers and flinched as they touched the wounds below her shoulders, making the unconscious girl groan. As their hands moved down her back, the thicker streams of blood backed against the edge of Ron's hand and lapped up onto Shego's, hissing and sizzling as it boiled against the surface of Shego's plasma. Strangely, the nimbus of plasma darkened to a reddish violet and sent veins of orange back through the field surrounding her hand. Her vision began to bleach into a white mist as she felt other arms encircle her and hold her steady.

Betty and Anne held a rubbery Shego up while Monique had slipped to her knees to help Vivian support Ron as he trembled and began to moan.

The room disappeared and suddenly there were pictures!

Movies and videos and snapshots and mp3s of sounds and voices…

_It wasn't safe!_

_It was never safe when the lights were off._

Late at night, when the rest of the world was asleep…

When her parents were asleep…

The scary man would come.

The bad man who hurt her would come.

And as frightened as she was for her self, she was really, really frightened for her mommy and daddy!

Especially for her daddy!

Because the monster would steal her daddy's _face_ so it would look like him!

But she knew it wasn't really her daddy because he would _never_ do the things to her that the monster man did.

He would never _hurt_ her like that!

He would never make her…do _those things_…with him…

So it made it all the worse that the monster man, the scary man, would wear her daddy's face like some terrible Halloween mask. And turn her bedroom into a haunted house for all of those awful years.

But she hadn't thought of that face for a long, long time, now.

There was another face.

The face of her bestest friend in the whole, wide world!

She was such a tomboy and she wasn't afraid of anything! When she had told her friend about the scary monster man, her friend had made the first of her many, many scowly faces to come. Her teal eyes had narrowed and she had promised her that she wouldn't let the scary monster man ever hurt her again!

So her friend had hidden under her bed with her camera and her recorder and told her what to do and what to say when the monster man came back. And she did, and when her best friend came out from under the bed, she had scared the monster man away. She had hidden under her covers then but the teal-eyed girl had chased him down the hall where he must have scared her mommy because, after a few minutes, she began to scream.

The police came after a little while and asked her a lot of questions about the monster man. Some of the questions were confusing and others made her very unhappy but her friend sat next to her and held her hand while the police were there. And then she got to go stay at her friend's house for a few days, which was fun in spite of her friend's two, stinky older sisters.

And when she went back home it was just like her best, brave friend had promised: the monster man never came back to bother her again! Oh, there were some bad dreams, to be sure. And her daddy had gone away on a long, long trip—to protect her from the monster man, her friend told her. But she didn't really miss him and it was nice that he was keeping the monster man away from her.

So, the years went by and it was her friend's face that she saw mostly, instead of her daddy's or the monster man.

_And then there was that other face…_

She wasn't very comfortable around boys.

Boys could be big and mean and loud and crude and scary in all sorts of indefinable ways…

But there was one boy…

A kind, sweet, funny boy…

Who was brave and yet gentle.

Wise and yet silly.

Lovable and not interested in all of that stuff that kind of bothered her.

At least, _used_ to bother her…

He had saved her…and her friends.

Once. Then twice.

Then more times than she could remember.

Those kind, brown eyes.

That warm and silly smile.

Those freckles—each one so kissable.

And those ears—oh my! Hope had once told her that they looked like they'd be perfect for holding on to…and then had whispered what the "holding on" would be for!

And the idea had not seemed so scary for once.

The only problem was her best friend.

She didn't approve of the blond-haired boy.

And she owed her best friend a deep debt of loyalty.

_But what if it meant giving up the one guy she could find happiness with?_

She had never kissed anyone else without flinching a little.

And she couldn't imagine anyone else touching her intimacies without shivering—and not in a good way.

She shivered in all of the best ways when she thought of _his_ hands on her…_here_…and…_there_…

And…and…_now_…

Now…she could feel his hand…on…her back…

It was warm and it felt good everywhere it touched her.

She wished that she could roll over so that he could touch her some more…but she was very tired…

She could barely open her eyes.

Dimly. She could see that she was up off the floor.

There were people around her.

Why? _Was somebody hurt?_ The last thing she remembered was treating the injured after that fight with all of those monkeys…

She should get up!

Someone might need her.

_Omygod! _He_ might need her!_

But she couldn't move…

All that she could do was stare blearily as a tiny figure ran toward her.

**RSVP**

It was amazing what you could do with a simple hand-truck and a roll of duct tape. Bates found himself more secure than the most wanted terrorist in Guantanamo Bay.

Kim Possible re-cloaked the hoverpod and entered the coordinates into the auto-pilot before turning around in her chair and holding up the broken remains of the African ceremonial mask. "Ya know, Bates," she said with an air of menacing nonchalance, "I can understand how a man like yourself, in the service of a lord—even one as messed up as Montgomery Fiske—might feel a sense of duty, even loyalty, to his employer.

"But Monkey Man is gone," she growled. "And, last I checked, you were working with Dr. Amy Hall on something and she was working for Mastermind. Since I'm Mastermind's successor that sort of puts the two of you under _my_ management. But, when I look around, do I find DNAmy down in her lab? No. Where is she, Bates? And what's the sitch with the monkey voodoo stuff? Think carefully about your answers because, believe me, I do have ways of making you talk and there's no genetically modified English lords to rescue you, this time."

**RSVP**

Brick and Big Mike stumbled to a halt as soon as they entered the warehouse.

"Uh," said Big Mike.

"Uh, yeah…" Brick echoed.

"Does youse see…?"

"I think so…"

Both could see a bloody killing field with monkey corpses and body parts scattered everywhere.

But it was the other occupants that had them stopped and staring.

While Big Mike had a passing acquaintance with some of the Middleton High cheerleaders, Brick Flagg knew all of them quite well from years of football. There was Tara, lying face-down on a table. And Jessica! He'd gone to her funeral but here she was, plainly alive, just as the papers and newscasts had reported! And his old girlfriend Bonnie, covered in blood and holding a gory fire axe. _And_ wearing a sexy harem girl outfit. Come to think of it, half the women in the room were seemed to be wearing harem outfits! And then there were the two redheads that looked an awful lot like Kim Possible. While their cargo pants and crop-tops afforded them more modesty, they were still showing a good amount to toned torso. And speaking of toned torsos, that chick with the short, garnet-colored hair was really rocking that tube top and low-rider jeans…

Big Mike was appreciating Monique's bootyliciousness in her red dress and then noted the scantily clad celebrities. He nudged his football teammate and whispered: "Dude, that's like Heather and Britina!"

"Oh man," Brick moaned, noticing the curvaceous forms of Vivian and Shego, "I have _got_ to get a job here! I'll even work for free."

"Hell," Mike murmured, "I'll pay them to let me work here!"

At that moment a lovely Asian woman ran into the room chasing a toddler.

The little girl made a beeline to the table where the others were gathered, slamming into the leg of one Ronald Dean Stoppable, where she clung with all the determination of an NFL offensive tackle. There was a flash and the room was filled with a blinding, golden light!

**RSVP**

Bates was no fool. He'd gone along with the crazy geneticist on the chance that there just might be something to the madwoman's scheme. He had enjoyed the quiet life in the aftermath of his master's loss to that Yono creature. He wasn't particularly enamored with the idea of bringing him back.

But if DNAmy was actually able to raise the spirit of Lord Monty Fiske and place it within the clone she had created from his late master's cells…well, he didn't want the resurrected Monkeyfist finding out that he had not been supportive of the whole venture!

Still, he needed no coaxing from Kim Possible to spill the beans: if she could stop that horrid woman before she was able to bring Monty back, all the better! The problem was he just wasn't sure that she believed his outlandish story.

Which was interrupted just now by the chiming of the communicator.

Adrena Lynn's face appeared on the screen.

"Can't it wait?" Kim scowled. "I'm busy here!"

"Big Daddy Brotherson wants to talk to you," the blonde said. "I think you'll want to take this call…"

**RSVP**

Ron shook his head slowly, trying to clear it. Looking down he saw happy black eyes and little chubby arms reaching upward.

He grinned. "Hana-banana!" He picked her up and hugged her tight. "How's the bestest little sister in the whole, wide world?"

She giggled in his ear. "Brudder stinky!"

He held her out at arm's length and looked at the blood and little bits of monkey gore that had transferred onto her jumper from their embrace. "Whoopsy! Looks like we both need a bath, now!"

Meanwhile, Shego stared at her hand and then at Tara King's unmarked back. _What had just happened?_ She felt a nudge and found herself looking at Betty Director.

"We should secure the perimeter, don't you think?" the GJ operative suggested.

"Er, right." She looked around. Saw the new arrivals. "Hey, you—big guys: what's your business here?"

Brick dragged his eyes away from his ex-girlfriend. "Uh…"

"We was looking to see if there might be any job openings," Big Mike answered.

"Part-time, right now," Shego snapped. "Full-time depends on how well you do. Call the zoo, animal control, whoever, and get these monkey carcasses hauled away. Then talk to the work crew about clean up. Get references for third-party agencies, if necessary…"

"I'm going to need help getting Tara upstairs," Bonnie said. "Brick?"

"Sure thing, Bon Bon."

"Want Ron…" Tara slurred.

"Don't we all," Shego muttered.

"Hey there, T," Ron said softly by her ear. "Let Bonnie and Brick take you upstairs now and I will check in on you in a bit. You can use my tub and towels to get cleaned up. I'm gonna give my little sis a bath and hose off and then I'll be by to see how you're doin'. 'Kay?"

"'Kay," she whispered with a little smile.

"You other girls want to get cleaned up, you can use one of the vacant units upstairs. Yoshi, do you want to help them find tow—"

With a zzzzip and a zzzzing, Bebe and Dede suddenly appeared in their midst. "We have found—" the blonde robot announced. "—Ron Stoppable," the brunette robot finished.

"—wels. Never mind." Ron fished out his wallet and handed a credit card to Bebe. "Could you run out and buy towel sets and basic toiletries for all of the empty apartment units upstairs? Please?"

"Yes, Ron." She was suddenly gone.

He turned to the Possibles. "Anne, Joss, could you secure the perimeters? I'll ask Dede to assist you and," he turned to Betty, "Liz, if you'd supervise and provide liaison with law enforcement and the authorities, I'd really appreciate it."

"Anything you need, Ron." She smiled and whispered: "Anything…"

Ron turned again and stuck out his hand to the man in the red jumpsuit, wielding the nail gun. "Thanks for the assist, Joe! Good to see you again."

"Yeah," the Canadian secret agent allowed, "you weren't _supposed_ to see me at all. But extraordinary times…"

"Call for extraordinary measures," Ron agreed. "When things settle down, we should talk."

"Probably more efficient that way for both of us." He grinned. "I'll get the boys downstairs on that window and the front doors right away."

"Thanks Joe! In fact, lets upgrade all of the windows to bulletproof glass and reinforce all doors and egress points to blast-resistant status."

"Gonna cost triple and set some deadlines back a few days."

Ron shrugged. "I can afford both. Not so sure I can afford the alternatives." He looked over at Big Mike and Brick who was lifting Tara in his arms like a sleepy baby. "Hi guys, I hope you'll forgive the mess…"

"You kiddin' me?" Big Mike rumbled. "This is friggin' awesome!"

"Hey Stops," Brick said, "you the guy in charge around here?"

Ron shook his head. "Owner? Yes. In charge? Only for about twenty minutes last week.

The blond football star nodded slowly. "Any time there's women in the mix—"

"Brick," Bonnie interrupted, "carry now, talk later."

_See what I mean?_ he mouthed.

"For sure, dude. Tonight. Drinks on me." He turned again as Shego tapped him on the shoulder.

"What about me, sport?"

"Why don't you get cleaned up and then you can oversee everyone else."

She arched an eyebrow. "Including you?"

"Don't you always?"

She sighed.

"What about _me_, Ron?"

Ron turned again. He felt like he was getting whiplash. Saw Jessica. "Hey, Jessie! Welcome back from the dead! I'd hug you but then you'd need a bath, too."

She clasped her hands together and twisted back and forth from her hips. "I wouldn't mind…" She smiled shyly.

The Possibles looked at each other and frowned.

"Well, I'd really like to talk to you, later, too," he said, hefting his little sister in his arms for a better grip.

"I'll stick around," she said, her smile growing.

Monique called to Zita: "Hey, girl, you're welcome to use my shower—once I'm done, that is."

"Thanks," the Hispanic girl answered. "Go on ahead, I want to show Viv something."

"Hey, where'd Penny go?" Ron asked, as Zita ran the video back on drone remote.

"Oh she ran out saying something about needing to change her clothes," Dr. Porter answered as she reviewed the video feed from the aerial drone with Zita. "She had a little accident…" She stiffened as she saw a man on a nearby roof, wearing some kind of African ceremonial mask.

A woman was approaching him from behind…

_Except for her dark hair, she looked like—_

Monique suddenly screamed.

She was standing without the aid of her crutches.

"My leg!" she gasped. "It—it doesn't hurt!"

"Well, I'm sure that's a relief," Yoshi observed.

"No. You don't understand. I can walk on it! I—I think it's healed! Completely!"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Aftermath  noun: ****aftermath****; the consequences or aftereffects of a significant unpleasant event.**

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><p><strong>AN 2: ****_As I mentioned before, tell me who should be winnowed down to the final five. Extra points for telling me why!_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 28<strong>

_CajunBear7310/18/12 . chapter 28_

Not gonna go there on your challenge...LOL!

But quite the bonding chapter here. Ron and Shego, once again, pull a mystical monkey out of...somewhere, to heal Tara, and in doing so, also gives the blonde another reason to yearn for the 'boy'. Oh boy..indeed. Nice of Hana to set the spark to the kindling there in the end, too.

I wonder if Shego's and Ron's 'burn' of her injuries also relieved Tara's lifelong pain of what happened to her in her younger years. That and what happened to Monique also seem to have drawn them closer to Ron.

But Kim, it seems, is back to stacking the deck and cleaning up a mess there with Bates and soon, Amy. I think Monique's distraction may have given Kim time to escape back out to her base in the chaotic after battle cleanup.

CB73

**_Yes, a bit of churning there, with a little more churning to come—but, very soon, things (and people) will start to sort themselves out. I said "start"—we've still got a ways to go here. And you've given me an idea or two. See what happens when other people start adding their thoughts & interpretations here? Very dangerous…(grin) R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 1019/12 . chapter 28 _

yes i did mean joss. you went a bit dark in this chapter. its like someones draining the mmp but who

**_Dark? Better bring a flashlight and check your batteries… And blame Justine Flanner and the Tweebs for the MMP drainage. R~13_**

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><p><em>Batamut1030/12 . chapter 28_

Love your story and excellant chapter.  
>As for my votes on the final five:<p>

Vivian, I like a girl with a brain and she never seems to get any guy or any Ronshine when people say they are pairing her and Ron (and not used every often)

Tara, cause she is cute and bubbly, and after what you introduced in this chapter how could I not vote for her

Those are my favourites but to full up the rest I would have go for ... Yoshi, Amelia and Electronique to go with the Theme for cute, exotic (*cough sexy cough*) and mostly not used/underused

**_Interesting choices! And your votes put Tara in the lead. She's one of my favorites—though I didn't expect her to necessarily be a fan-favorite. And I like "exotic", too. R~13_**

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><p><em>JDSeay 811/13 . chapter 28_

Great as always  
>Final five<br>Shego, bonnie, tara, older joss, and yori

**_And tabulated. R~13_**

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><p><em>The Desert Fox<em> 8/12/13 . chapter 28

"The best form of welfare for the troops is first-rate training."- Rommel

Which Cousin Larry are we referring to? Kim's cousin or Balki's cousin? Actually that was a stupid question, it's Kim's cousin of course. As for the voting, I vote for the attack of the models. As for the harem or whatever it is, I pass as I have votes for 39 girls including Camille, 3 androids, and 1 alien, but no votes for Joss as she's not 18.

Finally: is the alien sent to track Ronnie going to show up, and last this is only worth while Ron/multi female story worth reading. Most are apparently abandon, and the one other active one has gotten stupid, and has no real plot anymore. I ain't naming names.

**_So, let me get this straight: you think that the fact that Joss is still mentally & emotionally underage disqualifies her from the running? Just when I was starting to think that all of my readers were a bunch of pervs..._**

**_Thanks for the vote of confidence. Still not admitting that this is a so-called "harem" story (Babastan & Big Daddy Brotherson aside) but I like to think it keeps its footing so far because there hasn't been any consummations (outside of his marriage to Yori) and that there has been a "realistic" set-up for having this many girls interested in Ron (1. Saved the planet, 2. Wealthy, 3. Heroic, 4. Kind, 5. Did I mention saved the whole freaking planet by tossing ten-foot-tall aliens into the sky? 6. Zorpox has been using Ron's MMP to tweak the girls' feelings artificially). Actual polygamous arrangements are hard to pull off realistically-especially beyond a three-person arrangement-and just making relationships about the sex turns into boring, repetitive porn in no time._**

**_Am I saying that there's not going to be sex? No, in fact, there's some coming up relatively soon. Am I saying that it won't turn into a traditional "harem" fic? That would be silly: most of you would stop reading then. ;-) R~13_**

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><p>Sentinel103 812/13 . chapter 28

Oh boy I can get another review in...some weird shi...ah stuff going on and how did the monkies get zombifi...uh never mind I figured it out. Now Kimmie seems to have her own little toy of the English persuasion.

ST-103

**_And another piece of the puzzle that even Mastermind didn't know about! R~13_**

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><p>newboy 812/13 . chapter 28

At some point ron will have to tell them all about monkey fist, most people do not know about that. As for my votes, take eletronique off the list, that way it will just be 5 votes.

**_Too late! Someone's gonna die soon and it will be all your fault! (cough) Actually, I had already planned the next death far in advance. And I tend to kill off characters because of the readers who don't review, not the ones that do. R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 910/13 . chapter 28 _

Damn it! Fine, if I have to choose ( and hopefully it ain't too late) it's gotta be:  
>1. Shego- Bad ass equals great support.<br>2. Tara- Just cuz I like her.  
>3. Yori- For obvious reasons.<br>4. Joss- Cuz she actually likes Ron, and is currently in a position to help him.  
>5. Amelia- Don't ask me why, there's just something about her I really like.<p>

**_1. It's hard to imagine a final five without her._**

**_2. Me too_**

**_3. Which are?_**

**_4. If you say so._**

**_5. Amelia is one of those characters who have taken on a life of their own in this story. She's actually embarked on an ambitious quest to make herself worthy of the Ronster and the other girls should be paying more attention! R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 28 . 114/14_

Top like are shego , Betty , Bonnie and Kim for the reason of being made to go through all that , shego has this thing about her I can't explain but has more importance than kim and is as interesting as Ron as for bonnie she has this redemption feel to her that screams to give her a chance

_**Wow, another vote for Bon Bon's redemption. I love it. Not sure what Shego will have to say about Bonnie's attempt at "redemption" though… R~13**_

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 28 . 105/14_

Fantastic chapter. Shego those were incredibly powerful flashbacks. She must be very happy healing. Looking forward to discussion her and Ron have. The other girls were very cute. Bad idea letting a kid see all that blood.

Looking forward to next chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Just making sure there's no misunderstanding: the flashbacks were from Tara: Ron and Shego were sharing them as they were in the meld with her. As for Hana? It would be a really bad idea for The Han to see that there might be a reason to shed some blood! The Four Flippies of the Apocalypse! R~13**_

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><p><em><em>gypsy069 chapter 28 . 106/14__

Good Stuff! Looking forward to more...

_**Ah, a new reviewer! Keep reading for more! R~14**_


	29. Onsen Redux

_**As I post Chapter 29, here are the polls as they stand now:**_

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 2 votes**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The return of Camille Leon – 2 votes**_

_**The votes for the "Final Five":**_

_**Shego – 8 votes**_

_**Tara – 7 votes**_

_**Bonnie – 6 votes**_

_**Yori – 6 votes**_

_**Vivian – 3 votes**_

_**Electronique – 3 votes**_

_**Joss – 3 votes**_

_**Betty – 2 votes**_

_**Amelia – 2 votes**_

_**Monique - 1 vote**_

_**Yoshi – 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _Is this still required? See the FanFiction site standard disclaimer. Or the disclaimers for all of the other chapters in this yarn._

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><p><strong>Chapter 29 – Onsen Redux<strong>

The estate had once belonged to a Columbia drug lord.

He had enjoyed immense wealth and a thriving business built upon the suffering deaths of uncountable numbers of victims and addicts. And he enjoyed near invulnerability, unencumbered by extradition laws or the interference of a corrupt local government and police force who were paid to look the other way. He had been deemed untouchable by every international law enforcement agency in the world.

That is until the head of a bigger criminal enterprise had decided that they needed his mansion as one of their new bases of operations.

Said drug lord had gone to bed one night in his master bedroom only to awaken 36 hours later in the bedroom of one of Kim Jong-un's mistresses.

The men who awakened him with the less than gentle prodding of automatic weapons were members of the _Bowibu_, the North Koreans' name for the secret police arm of the National Security Agency.

Nothing more is known of his subsequent disposition or whereabouts.

The current "owner" of the estate was away on business when an elderly couple showed up in ill-fitting staff uniforms.

No one thought to question their credentials, though the old man seemed a little long in the tooth to be the new butler, and the maid was clearly going to have a little trouble with the stairs. But there had been a lot of turnover in staff since the old master and disappeared and the new owner was still having equipment brought in and hiring new security while conducting business elsewhere.

Where was the security threat in an old man who needed a cane to walk across the room and and elderly woman who hunched over and shuffled as she walked?

No one thought that the old man bore any resemblance to a certain action-star from the early sixties.

Or could imagine that the elderly woman had once trained with Shaolin monks to perfect the ancient art of Peng Lang Chuang kung fu. And, after becoming a top aviatrix, had gone on to be first woman to successfully complete the navy's underwater-demolition training program.

So no one thought anything when they had disappeared upstairs for awhile…

Or, perhaps, forever. The old man and the old woman were never seen again.

No one noticed the young man and the young woman who left the grounds some forty-five minutes later, garbed in the latest stealth technology. They were too well-trained and too athletic to trip any alarms or be noticed by anyone not actively searching for them.

At the boundaries of the estate, the young man paused at the top of the wall, crouching in a pose eerily reminiscent of the Fearless Ferret. "I wish we could have taken it with us. Think of what this would mean to all of your friends back at _Chez Leisure_!"

"I know, Timothy," his companion answered. "But taking the Juvenator now would just alert this Mastermind that there are two new pieces on the board and endanger everyone we know and love...including Mr. Simmons, Mr. Stanley, and Mrs. Greenfield."

"You're right, as always, my dear," the impressively muscled young man conceded. "Preparation first. Then we can bring this Overlord of the Underworld to Justice! And we'll be free to come out of the shadows, ourselves!"

"We need to go, Tim," the lovely young woman said affectionately. "You can monologue back at the cave, later."

**RSVP**

"First of all, allow me to extend a cordial welcome to the ranks of world-class villains, Miss Possible," the big man spoke from the hoverpod's view screen. "As you know I, myself, do not aspire to evil plans and purposes. I am but a humble businessman—an entrepreneur, really—who engages in transactions with parties on both sides of the proverbial fence. A neutral party—"

Kim snorted.

"—who serves a purposes in a world of many shades of grey," he finished.

"Like fifty?" Kim shot back.

Big Daddy looked puzzled. "Fifty what?"

"Shades…" Kim prompted.

"Fifty shades?" The big man still looked mystified. "Of what?"

"Never mind. Cut to the chase, B.D. I'm kinda busy here. Getting ready to torture a prisoner, ya know."

Bates gulped and struggled against the duct tape that held him fast.

Brotherson gave her an appraising look. "I've heard rumors of your—um—realignment. I see that it's all true!"

"Tick tock, Big D."

"Ah, yes, well—I am known as a procurer. A man who can find almost anything for any client, no matter what their needs or tastes. Until now, I have stayed out of human trafficking and the white slavery market but I am well acquainted with it. Recently, however, I have come into possession of some—well—choice merchandise. I'm sure to get some very competitive bids as soon as I post them on V-Bay…"

Brotherson's image was replaced with pictures of her former Mad Dog cheermates as well as Amelia—all wearing skimpy harem outfits and chained at the wrists and ankles.

Kim struggled to contain her anger, ramped up to an incendiary rage by the moodulation chip that was flooding her limbic system with a heady mix of adrenaline and disinhibitors. "So? Why tell me? If you're trying to taunt me, I'm out of the hero biz. If you want me to bid, I don't swing that way." Her lip curled at one end. "Not that there's anything wrong with that…"

"Kimzilla, you misunderstand me," Brotherson cooed, returning to the screen. "I just thought you might like to spare your friends any…indignities…that might come from being sold to some people out there with…untoward motivations…"

She shrugged, trying to keep her face a blank mask. "High school was so last year: I've moved on. On the other hand, if you were to offer me Bonnie Rockwaller, trussed up like a Christmas turkey…"

"Miss Possible, let us not play these games. I'm willing to spare these girls the ignominy of being sold like so much chattel. In fact, I'm happy to send them to you free of charge…"

The former redhead arched an eyebrow. "Free?"

Brotherson nodded. "In exchange for a small favor."

"Hello," she retorted, pointing her thumb back at herself. "Villain now. I don't do favors."

"Not even if it involves the man who killed your father and your brothers?"

Kim propped her feet up on the console of the hoverpod and crossed her arms over her chest. "Okay. I'm listening."

**RSVP**

The plan had been to bathe his little sister in the suite that Kyoko Yoshiko shared with Hana as his bathtub was currently on loan to Tara and Bonnie.

Although he hadn't planned on his sister's au pair and bodyguard assisting him in getting her cleaned up, he was grateful for the help as the toy-laden bubble bath progressed.

Thanks to the adrenalin rush of doing battle with hundreds of monkey zombies (or was that zombie monkeys?) Hana's big brother had been able to shrug off the pain and fatigue of his previous battle back at the zoo. But as the splashing and washing and rinsing progressed, he found himself zoning out and slumping a little.

Despite his best intentions to spend a little more quality time with his super-soaky sibling, he felt himself succumbing to the effects of two strenuous battles and an attempt to use Shego's altered powers to heal Tara without the benefits of his own Monkey Mojo.

Fortunately, Yoshi was right there, kneeling beside him, helping little Hana along with her ablutions, taking over as Ron increasingly slouched back on his heels and let the beautiful Asian woman take over.

He couldn't help but notice—through increasingly heavy-lidded eyes—how good she was with the little ninja-toddler, efficiently but affectionately washing Hana's hair and ears and even making a game of cleaning her sticky fingers and ticklish toes. Together, they looked like…

…family.

And, to his increasingly fuzzy vision, they looked like a once future snapshot of his family-to-be-that-never-was.

Except that Yoshi was older and taller than Yori.

But not that much older.

Or that much taller…

He had also thought her to be more…angular.

But her pale green smock had grown increasing clingy and transparent with repeated soakings from the excited tyke and he could see that Yoshi was neither angular nor overly thin after all. He closed his eyes out of respect for the sake of her modesty and the next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the bathroom floor, the sound of water in his ears as the tub began to refill.

"Ron-san," Yoshi was saying, "let me help you into the tub…"

He tried to move his leaden hands but other fingers were already plucking at his buttons.

"Already had a bath…" he mumbled as his shirt was eased off and pulled away.

"Well, you need another one," the soft voice gently remonstrated. "You need rest. And you cannot rest until you are clean."

"You'd be surprised…" he murmured. "Hana…?"

"Down for her nap."

"Smart…girl…"

"Smarter than you know." His pants were suddenly gone. "Stoppable-san, you need a belt with more notches. I did not even have to unbuckle it."

"Would explain a lot of things…" He reached down to cover his Fearless Ferret boxers but there was a sudden breeze and they had gone missing as well. "Um…this is awkward…"

"Do not think of this so, Ron-san. You know the customs and traditions of Japan. Think of this bathing chamber as your _onsen_," she said, easing him up to a sitting position. "I must help you into the water so think of me as your _onsen_ geisha."

He did, indeed, know of the traditional bathhouse customs: Yamanouchi even had a co-ed onsen. But he also knew that the term "onsen geisha" had another connotation—one, that he was sure, was unintentional on her part.

As he was guided to the tub, he noticed that the light in the room had dimmed and was uneven, casting amorphous shadows on the walls. Scented candles flickered in the midst of fresh floral arrangements on the shelves and counter. The tub was clean and the water fresh and hot as he stepped in—_how long had he been out?_

As she helped him ease down into the soothing hot water, he heard soft music playing from somewhere behind him: Gagaku, kangen style. While Ron's western ears had never been overly fond of the sound of the biwa, koto, shamisen, fue, and tsuzumi, the selections that Yoshi had chosen were strangely soothing. His heart and mind seemed to ease along with the effects of the scented oils in the water. Eucalyptus and—if he could trust his banged and bloodied nose—rose geranium.

And now, another scent.

A small sake cup was touched to his lips. The chilled rice wine was a delicious contrast to the hot, scented water that lapped about his waist.

Just a sip and the cup was removed.

A hand dipped into the steaming water and rose again to trickle a small quantity up his forearm. The hand dipped again, spreading droplets up his bicep to his shoulder. It was a practical ritual, designed to warm the body above the waterline and bring relaxation with subtle touches—here and then there, and then all about until his back and chest and arms were wet and warm and relaxed.

He felt the touch of cool moistness on his lips and opened his mouth. A small slice of melon was placed on his tongue. As he slowly sucked and then chewed the sweet fruit, more hot water was dribbled over the nape of his neck.

"Relax, Stoppable-danna," she said softly. "A warrior must rest between battles if he is to overcome all of his foes."

Now the hand reached across his chest and took a rounded bar of white soap from the recess in the wall and dipped it into the water with a soft washcloth of the same color. His gaze followed the hand, the wrist, the arm that disappeared into the sleeve of an azure blue kimono swaddling the lovely Kyoko Yoshiko. Her long, glossy black hair was pulled up into a bun, held in place by a pair of ivory chopsticks. Her silken kimono had loosened and the sleeve was damp on the end where it had trailed in the water.

"Let this be your _oashisu_, your oasis," she murmured by his ear. "Take back your strength in repose…"

Slowly, almost sensuously, she began to wash him with her dominant hand, up his arm, around his neck, and down his other arm and hand. Then she dipped the cloth onto the water and re-lathered it, moving to his sternum, then down his chest, and around to his back.

He did not try to resist. He was well aware of the ancient Japanese customs of the _onsen_ from his time at Yamanouchi. He relaxed, trusting to rituals established generations before, and passively allowed himself to be bathed, moving or shifting his position so as to assist in the stages of the outer cleansing.

Between the rewettings of the cloth, he was given refreshing bites of fruits and sips of chilled sake. As the bath progressed, he eased into a zen-like state as the soapy cloth worked its soothing magic across his abdomen. He was barely aware of her cooling her hands with ice when she deemed the heat of the water was becoming too oppressive. His buttocks were next and then—very, very gently—his genitalia.

In his deepening, meditative state, he departed this place and time and was back home…

…home with his loving wife, in the mountains of Japan…

The beaded perspiration on his face, mingled with the moisture of her minstrations, hid his tears from Yoshi. But he sighed and smiled and whispered: "Tsuma…"

Yoshi smiled sadly and murmured: "…Shujin…"

Yet she did not pause or linger but proceeded to the washing of his legs and finishing with his feet.

He bowed his head as he felt her cool hands slide shampoo through his hair, her fingers gliding through his locks with sensuous ease. The soapy liquid softened the friction of her fingertips as she massaged his scalp, driving him deeper into his trance and freeing his flesh from all earthly cares and discomforts.

**RSVP**

"Careful, girlfriend!"

Monique stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth as she worked the serrated kitchen knife under her cast. "I gotta see," she told Zita. "Besides, I can't take the itching for another minute!"

"Well, if your leg is healed, you ain't gonna do yourself any favors by slashing it all to hell!" Zita argued.

"Stupid cast," the black woman grumbled as she tried to be a little more careful.

"Here," said a new voice, "let me try something…" Dr. Vivian Porter knelt next to her. Extending her index finger. A spark appeared at the tip and became a tiny jet of flame as the blonde scientist concentrated.

Monique felt the cast grow warm as Vivian's finger moved over its plaster surface but there was no lingering discomfort as the plasma-pointed digit slid down from her thigh to her ankle. In no time at all, it seemed, the cast was cut away and her leg emerged whole and unblemished. There wasn't even a scar from the bullet wound!

Standing slowly, Monique took a few careful steps and then began to dance around the chair and table with growing abandon. "I can walk! I can dance!" she crowed. "I can kick ass!" And to prove the latter point, she hauled off and kicked a monkey with sufficient force as to separate its head from its body and send it flying across the lobby where it narrowly missed Big Mike who was shoveling monkey corpses into a wheelbarrow.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," she answered, not looking very. "Thanks Viv, Zita! I'm getting' a shower, changed, and then I'm lookin' to celebrate! Who's with me?"

From the response of those still in the vicinity, it looked like Monique would have plenty of company.

**RSVP**

Elle didn't want to wake up right away.

She was warm and comfortable and laying on something soft for a change.

And then she remembered that she wasn't safe!

She had been on the run for days, now, sleeping on the ground and trying to avoid capture by both the minions of Dark Kim and law enforcement, as well.

And get to Ron.

The last thing that she remembered was engaging a veritable army of undead monkeys!

She sat up in bed with a start and looked around the unfamiliar room. It was nice. Like a swank hotel room with feminine touches. Not quite lived in—though there were clothes scattered about and the shower was going in the adjoining bathroom. Whoever lived here either hadn't been staying here very long or hadn't yet committed to it as a primary residence.

"How ya feeling, Sparky?" asked a familiar voice.

Elle swung her head about, looking for the source of that voice and fell back on the pillow as a wave of dizziness overtook her.

"Don't pop a fuse, Duchess. You're safe. As long as you behave." Shego leaned forward, into the light, as she pulled on a boot. "Scorch my fifteen-hundred thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, and it'll be a whole 'nother story, though." The lights in the room had been dimmed, leaving her host's chair in relative shadow—made all the darker by the bright light spilling from the bathroom door in contrast.

"Where am I?" Electronique asked groggily.

"My suite," the other woman grunted, pulling on the other boot. "Though I imagine you're really wondering if you've found _la casa de Stoppable_. You have. As I recall, the last time that we spoke you were looking to have a palaver. I assume that your intentions are still non-hostile? Especially since you fried a bunch o' monkeys out in the street?"

"Oui…I…" Trying to sit back up she fell back on the pillow again as the room began to spin. "Ohhh…I am zo…drained…"

"Good. Probably best that we have this conversation now before you go getting all feisty, again." Shego stood and moved to the dresser. She wore a pair of black jeans that looked like they had been painted on. Aside from her boots, the only other garment that she wore was a towel draped across her shoulders. "You see, the last I checked, you were working for this guy named Mastermind. And even if it's true that you want to make nice with my boss, your boss doesn't. So we have a bit of a problem here." She dropped the towel on the floor and shook out her long ebony hair. There was a greenish flicker about her head and shoulders and, suddenly, the lustrous fall of blue-black hair fluffed out, just as dry and wavy as you please.

The sound of running water in the bathroom diminished and was suddenly silent as Shego rummaged through her drawers and produced a silk tank-top cami made of emerald green silk.

"Mastermind won't be a problem," Elle croaked, her throat gone suddenly dry as the ex-villainess pulled the garment over her head and adjusted the spaghetti straps as the soft, thin material draped over her impressive bosom and hung in a chic curtain about her torso.

"Oh? And why is that?" Betty Director asked, walking out of the bathroom, clad in only a towel.

Electronique stiffened in the bed as she recognized the head of Global Justice—albeit a younger version, sans eye-patch.

"At ease, Sparky," Shego soothed as she rooted through a jewelry box in search of the right accessories. "Betts, here, is a civilian, now. She's joined us—one of the Buffoon's Dragoons."

Betty frowned. "Sheila, you know how I feel about the B-word…"

Shego shrugged. "Not my nickname, Betts. You can thank Rockwaller for that one, I think." She pulled out a necklace with a moss agate pendant. "Now what's this about your boss? Has your loyalty shifted?"

"My loyalty shifted a long time ago. I would 'ave come zooner but I waz a preesoner."

"But you got away?" Betty asked, dropping her towel and rooting around in a suitcase for some underwear disguised as dental floss.

"Oui. But Mastermind—she is dead."

"She?" Betty shrilled.

"Dead?" Shego growled.

"Oui…"

"Who?" they both chorused.

"Eet was Miz Lipsky."

Both women stared at her with their mouths open.

"Dr. Drakken's m—"

"We know who she is, Sparky!"

"Are you sure?" Betty asked.

Elle nodded and Shego grew thoughtful.

"Yeah…yeah…it makes a lot of sense. That woman was batshit crazy…and I never really bought her whole obliviousness to Drew's career as an evil megalomaniac…"

"But you're sure that she's dead…right?" Betty prompted. "So that threat is actually averted?"

"From Mastermind; oui! But zhere is anuzer…"

Even though the walls were certified soundproofed by the architect and the construction crew, a few minutes later almost everyone on the floor could hear very explicit profanity erupting behind the door to Shego's suite.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Originally "Onsen" was the Japanese word for "hot springs" but it has come to mean both the bathing facilities designed for public use as well as the rituals associated with their use. "Redux" means brought back. I wasn't sure about repeating another bath scene so soon after the last one but there were reasons for it, plus, he was so dirty again…<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2: ****_As I mentioned before, tell me who should be winnowed down to the final five. Extra points for telling me why!_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 29<strong>

_CajunBear73 12/6/12 . chapter 29_

Gonna roll with the poll as things are. But holding out hope that Dark-Kim can be redeemed and come back to Ron. As for Yori, seems she may be part of other plans as this sprawl continues.

Some downtime here as Ron gets some second-home comfort from Yoshiko and the other girls recover from the battle. Still there's a lot of estrogen running rampant here and Ron's comment about running things is so very true...A hundred guys in a room and one woman enters, she's in charge...

Now Kim's got several of the girls from the aborted attempt to take down Duff? And soon Duff, too? Hope she doesn't hurt them or turn them to her 'cause'. Maybe they can keep Kim from going all bat-crap crazy as they explain what's been going on at home.

But I don't know how she'll take it, no matter what drives Kim's on.

CB73

**_That's the question, isn't it? What is Dark Kim all about? And does she even know? R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 126/12 . chapter 29_

Well Betts and Shego just found out that bat shit crazy Moma Lipsky is an ex villain good now that they're brought up to speed...but I'm tellin' ya that sometime bat shit crazy finds a way to live.

Now Ron's getting a bath and one that a whole bunch of gals would like to be in on. Now couple that with Anti-Kim taking the gals. Oh yeah she needs more minions!

ST-103

**_Yes, more minions, please! R~13_**

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><p><em>Kenju 1210/12 . chapter 29_

Wow, I remember when this fic series was just starting out, I turn my back for awhile and come back to find it fully fledged and grown wings lol. All around you have a great series here dude, and I'm going to take my time rereading both parts for sure. Its rare to see someone tackle an actual SERIES as a project instead of just a stand alone fic or oneshot as has become the trend. This here? Awesome dude, flat out awesome.

Enough with the praise though, I'll squeeze plenty of that into more reviews later. Right now though I'm going to dive into the votes lol. You mentioned before how unrealistic a harem would be and not knowing how it could even work. Well, I can show you a way, it really depends on the characters in question in the end, and my votes are going to reflect that.

First up is Shego. The queen of snark and dark heroine/light villainess of the series and not to mention my all around favorite match for Ron. She's a strong and independent woman but more importantly she's not the type to form strong attachments or bonds. I see her as a becoming a very close friend of Ron's, friends with benefits even, but I don't think she would ever be the sort to settle down in life, its just not her. Stick with one guy? Sure, but marriage just isn't what she would be looking for. She would know he'd always be there for her and accept her with open arms, and could always crash with him if she needs or wants to. To me, that seems like the sort of thing she would really want in life. Because of this, she wouldn't really be all that bothered by Ron being with other girls/women since she herself wouldn't exactly be in a committed relationship with him, just tight friends who are closer than most.

Next up would be Vivian. She isn't the second highest on my list but a close third. I vote for her second because it fits with my building case of a working harem. Vivian has, like Shego, never really been one for relationships. She's had a pretty rough past in all, and never really developed much in terms of a social life. She's a full grown adult woman with the emotional and relationship experience of a young teen, tack onto that her scientific mind and thinking process and you end up with something similar to Shego but still very different. Her first love is and always will be science, nothing else will ever be able to trump it. She wants companionship, she wants affection, and she wants to experience a truly fulfilling relationship. But because that would still play second fiddle to her when stacked up next to science, she wouldn't in all fairness expect someone to be completely devoted to her when she herself isn't going to be completely devoted to them. Stability and dependability, that's what she wants, someone she knows would always be there for her, that she would never have to worry about leaving her or losing interest because of her desire to further her career. That and I feel there are far too few fics with her in existence. She was a great character who is woefully underused.

Third vote goes to Yori. No way around it, the young woman is completely and utterly dedicated to Ron in every way. He has saved her life several times and he is the chosen one of her order. There could be and is no greater honor she could hope for than to serve at his side for the rest of her life. I think its fair to say she does have feelings for him, but those feelings are deeply entwined with her sense of duty, honor and upbringing. She was raised as a ninja, not just an assassin but a servant, one who is sworn to a master and follows their word as law. There is also the little fact that she is carrying his child, and given just who Ron is, there is no way he would ever leave her out of his life. These two share a bond, not just their unborn child, and I don't see that bond coming undone. She's been there for him quite a bit in this story, to take that way would be cruel and beyond evil. Who knows, she might become something of a morality pet with Kim, or her child at least. Hope you don't do anything to her and you keep her in the group. Lastly, her culture isn't exactly against harems in general, especially since she was raised in the old ways.

Fourth vote, now this is a tricky one, but fourth vote goes to…Tara. She isn't my favorite, but she is a fan favorite and her character allows a lot of room to work with. Her complete devotion and adoration to Ron also means she is very flexible in many things. Her pilot's license also is a huge boon. That aside, she has pined for Ron for years and now she has her chance with him. Her friendly, outgoing and all around accepting personality means that she would be…well, okay with the other girls, provided she never feels like she is being pushed out. Her friendship with Bonnie helps in this regard. She's known Bonnie for years and knows what makes her tick and how she functions. Because of this she would recognize how Ron fits into the others lives as an anchor and dependable friend that's there for them. In short, she would know that the others need Ron in their lives in various ways, but at the same time would know they have no intention of taking him, not beyond the little piece they need in their lives. Also as I said, she's very social and I think she would actually enjoy having company around when Ron is off on a mission, etc. I see her being the primary one (at least as long as Kim is evil) that Ron himself needs, the one he comes home for and looks to comfort and help him. Lastly her bond with Bonnie isn't one that will ever break. While Bonnie and Ron might not work out in the long run, her friendship with Tara means even if she doesn't make the final five she could always turn up from time to time to spice things up lol.

My fifth and final vote goes to Joss. Yeah, odd I know, but I have always been a fan of the unusual and unique. Joss, like Vivian is a very rare character to see used outside of a small number of writers, and even then she has a small role when she does show up. In your story though she really has grown up and proved to be a very interesting character. Her youth also means she has a lot of room to grow in other ways. Not just the girls with Ron, but Ron's friends and his connections, Joss has the opportunity to not only become a match for Kim, but to surpass her because of their different personalities. She is more open and willing to accept others help and advice, she's not as ridged and unwavering as Kim on the one hand, but she is more adaptable and flexible. Personally I would love to see her grow into the young woman Kim could have been had she not, you know, turned evil. I see her continuing to grow closer to Ron and possibly becoming a protégé of Shego's. As Shego said, she's gotten an upgraded body, but she lacks experience and training. Given what happened last mission, I could see Shego taking the girls under her wings to teach them some moves, and Joss taking to it like fire on paint thinner. Between training with Ron and Shego, I see a serious bond developing and from there a strong relationship.

Well there you have it, my five votes AND how the harem situation could actually work lol. Hope this helps dude. I'll send you a PM soon, I don't have a profile but one of my clients lets me use theirs in exchange for editing his work.

See you around dude.

**_Wow! A series of in-depth PMs from Kenju with analysis and suggestions! I'm honored and intrigued. As to how it's going to shake out? Your analysis has opened some doors to possibilities I hadn't considered. R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 1211/12 . chapter 29_

so was the star wars shout out intentional? and dark you call that dark what else you got son!

**Star Wars****_ shout out? Oh yeah. And you'll find others reading through what CajunBear now deems a "sprawl." And a _****Fifty Shades of Grey****_ shout out, too. As for "dark," I didn't mean to suggest that the previous chapter was to be the one that would take things "dark." The real dark stuff doesn't happen in a chapter and then get fixed right away. Real darkness builds and, if you don't have the stamina to go through it and outlast it, then it claims you. I think it claimed a few of my readers in Part I and I don't think that one ever got very dark… R~13_**

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><p><em>Shadenight123 1217/12 . chapter 29_

I read through the first RSVP and finished just now reaching here. Of course, I just had to review the entire thing in bulk: Wonderful! I'm actually feeling a lot of pity for Ron, mostly because he's beating himself to death (mentally speaking) for things that actually didn't really happen (Yori being still alive, Kim not actually having hated him) and the way it is now it's going to go even more down south! (Probably) Keep up the good work!

**_Thanks for the mass review! Go down south? Maybe not all the way to Antarctica…but I bet Ron will be able to see it from his bedroom window. R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 813/13 . chapter 29_

Almost caught up to where we left off, and finally its making more sense than before. Awful lot of pieces on still on the board, but I'm sure the author will provide some clearing before long.

Still think Hanna being acknowledged as Jonin for the shinobi simians is a thought too unsettling to have been voiced, kinda like reading the Necronomicon (the real one, not the mass market versions) aloud and in public.

**_Clearing? I still have a long list of KP characters yet to appear! There's Ned and Nanny Mane and-listen up people-where's Barkin? Clutter? You don't know the meaning of Clutter!_**

**_And now everyone will know its you, Uberscribbler! You're the one who reminded me of that silly little throwaway line about Hana and the monkey ninjas! What I do with that will be entirely YOUR fault! (Heh, always good to redirect the blame to the readers instead of taking responsibility for my own messes...) And while I have one of those mass market paperbacks of the Necronomicon, more importantly, I have an early edition of the actual Telenecromicon-the Phonebook of the Dead! Better yet, I keep Elvis on speed-dial... R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 813/13 . chapter 29_

I heard that Kim was spotted in England driving around a track in reasonably price car. At last count she was timed at 1:49:7.

**_Once again you've managered to lose me, Foxy. Are you getting into Uberscribbler's pharmaceuticals or raiding Sentinel's liquor cabinet?_**

**_Or is that just me? R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 910/13 . chapter 29 _

I really like the shower scene. and not in a perverted way either which is surprising.

**_Well, again we're seeing the softer side of Bonnie (and not in a perverted way, either) and that always makes the former Queen B more compelling. Sort of like seeing Tara when she's surprisingly badass. Or...wait! You're talking about Yoshi, aren't you? Man, no more "Ron Gets A Bath" chapters! It's too confusing for me! R~13_**

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 29 . 107/14_

Vote would be for Shego she was cute and funny at the end. The scene with Ron was nice many things bought up there. Wondering where will Kim will store all her friends now that she has them or will they will be left to wonder her base of operations.

Looking forward to next chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Thanks! Dark Kim can always drop them off at Senior Island. Señor Senior Senior could walk around in his bathrobe like Hef and...hmmmm...maybe another plot bunny here... R~13**_

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><p><em>Juicedmark chapter 29 . 108/14_

I want to start off and say I love the story so far! I wish we didn't have to cut the numbers, but if it needs to be done, I'd have to say Shego, Electronique, Vivian, Tara, and Bonnie. For Shego and Electronique, I've always been a fan of redeeming characters and letting them have a chance of happiness, and with Shego and Electronique, both never really had normal relationships, so I don't feel as if either will have the engraved thought that a long term relationship can only be between two people, like the other girls may feel. With Vivian, I honestly see no stories with her and I think she should have her share of lovin (loven)? With Tara, she's been in love with ron for so long, that I can't see her giving up now when he's so close, or getting over ron if she doesn't end up with him. Bonnie.. I've always liked her character, and I like seeing the softer side of her. I kinda don't have much of a reason for her, but eh, I like her and don't see enough of her ending up with ron, or having a happy ending.

_**Interesting choices, J, and well defended. I'm adding your votes to the next chapter.**_

_**I don't know whether to group Bonnie with Shego and Electronique as she is a "bad girl" but not a super villain (though given the minions and the tech, who knows what could have happened! A giggling, blue Zonnie! Yikes!). But your point about the loneliness of the path that Shego and Electronique IS part of the themes I am endeavoring to explore here and I'm glad you're on board with that. Ditto for Bonnie's redemption, the softer side of Bon Bon. Tara? What a wealth of possibilities! She was the first to see Ron in a romantic light and there is a sweetness of personality there that seems to make some sort of a connection inevitable. Vivian? Yeah, not much in story files (though there appears to be some KIGO femslash that has recruited her. Wade has always been Kim's tech guy and Ron is stepping up and in need of a tech guy. With Kim and Wade out of his orbit (for now), Viv would seem to be just what the doctor ordered. Viv's going to have her hands full for awhile but she's definitely still interested. The question is, can she get Ron's attention? Actually the question is: Can anyone get Ron's attention! R~13**_


	30. Suppono Subpono

_**Authors/Notes: As I post Chapter 30, here are the polls as they stand now**_

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 2 votes**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The Return of Camille Leon – 2 votes**_

_**The votes for the "Final Five":**_

_**Shego – 11 votes**_

_**Tara – 9 votes**_

_**Bonnie – 8 votes**_

_**Yori – 6 votes**_

_**Vivian – 6 votes**_

_**Joss – 4 votes**_

_**Electronique – 4 votes**_

_**Amelia – 3 votes**_

_**Betty – 2 votes**_

_**Monique – 2 votes**_

_**Yoshi – 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _This is supposed to be a work of "Fan Fiction." Not sure how many "fans" are still reading this thing but as long as there's one or two, I hope it qualifies. And neither of them are paying me, so there!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 30 – Suppono Subpono<strong>

She reached out to cup his face. "I love you, you know." She kissed him softly and felt his lips respond in kind. "Things have been kind of confused lately—especially with all of the other girls…"

"Tell me about it," Ron whispered back.

"I've been so frightened," she murmured, clinging to him. "I mean, you know how I am—surely you noticed. I mean, four years of cheer practice…"

"Marcella," he breathed, "you were always the one that stood out for me."

"Really?" she asked softly.

"How could I not notice? You're beautiful! I mean, other guys might notice the face and form of an angel—"

"And the personality of the devil?"

His lips grinned against hers. "So you're fiery. I like fiery. And long black hair—"

"I thought you liked red."

"Ewww, that's just wrongsick!"

"Well, I never figured you'd want me after all of this time."

"We don't really know what we want when we're young," he murmured. "That takes time. Time is our friend, if we let it…"

"I'll…let you…" she whispered into his mouth as she took his soft hand and pulled it to her aching breast.

"Oh, Marcy," he moaned, "how can anything wrong feel so right?"

"I don't care about right or wrong, anymore," she breathed. "I need this! I—I want you! Right now!"

"And I want you, too!" he whispered. "But shouldn't we wait? We might wake the others?

"I'll be quiet," she promised. "You can gag me, if you like…"

He grinned, his teeth flashing white in the darkness. "Kinky? I like that."

"Tell me what else you like?" she asked softly with a sensuous smile.

He pressed himself to her side and whispered in her ear.

Her smile grew and when he asked what kind of kinky she'd like to try, she whispered back: "A three-way…"

"Reeeeaalllly? With who?"

"Hope…"

**RSVP**

"Hope…" Marcella murmured.

The Asian-American girl snuggled closer to her fellow prisoner. "What, Marcy?"

"Would you…"

"Would I what?" she whispered.

"Make love to me…with Ron?"

Hope's hand stilled. Then returned to gently stroking her friend's breast. "Are you dreaming of Ron?" she whispered.

"Yessssss…and…you…"

Hope swallowed. "What are we doing?"

"Making…love…"

"Ron…and you?"

"Yesssss." Marcella squirmed a little and her hand fell on the sweet slope of Hope's hip were it curved into her waist. "And…you…"

"Ron is making love to me?"

"Yesssss…and meeee…" she muttered softly.

"Gee, Marcy," Hope couldn't help but grin. "I've never known you to be much for sharing anything." She trailed her fingers from the dreaming girl's breast down her side and began drawing circles on her stomach.

"Too much for…one…woman…"

_I'll say_, Hope thought.

"…and I…love you…too…"

"You do?"

"For a long time…always there…for…me…best…friend…"

Hope continued to draw random circles on the Italian girl's olive skin but began to slowly move her fingers lower. "I love you, too, Marcy…"

Marcella smiled in her sleep. "And…do you…"

"Do I what, M?"

"Love…Ron…?"

"Yes."

"More…?"

"More than you?"

Hope's finger dipped into Marcella's navel. And she arched her back a little. "Uh…huh…"

"I…don't know…" Hope replied, surprised at her own answer.

Her finger made another visit to Marcella's bellybutton and she arched up a little more. "Uhhhh." She sighed as the digit withdrew. "Do you mind?" she murmured after a moment.

"What?" Hope whispered, her breath tickling the other girl's ear. "Sharing?"

"Uh huuuuuhhhh." Hope had found a sweet spot, alright. Her finger returned to circling the skin surrounding the deep well of Marcella's navel.

"Sharing Ron with you?" Hope asked. "Or you with Ron?"

"Want…both…"

Hope pulled away and rose up on her hands and knees. "Because you need me to help you keep him?"

"'Cause…want you…too…"

Hope eased down the rumpled bed. "Ron wants me, too?"

"Maybe…" Marcella giggled in her sleep as Hope drew the sheet down past her thighs. "…an' I want you…too…"

"What if," Hope murmured," you couldn't have both of us?"

Marcella frowned.

Hope climbed over a splayed leg. "Which would you choose?"

"Don't…know…"

"You don't know which of us you want more?" she asked, loosing a warm exhalation of breath on the sleeping girl's belly.

"Want…"

"What do you want, Marcy?" she asked, each word a tiny puff of air on taut, bronze flesh.

"…ho…"

"The kneeling girl smiled and bent forward, her dark hair caressing Marcella's waist and hips as she dipped her tongue into the sweet spot at the center of the sleeping girl's belly.

It only took a couple of minutes before Hope was sorry that she hadn't taken her friend up on the offer of gagging her first.

**RSVP**

All of the nerd denizens of _The Dungeon Comic Book Shoppe_ sat up and took notice.

Dice dropped on gaming tables and went unread. Plastic sleeved comic boo—ahem, _graphic novels!_—slipped back into the rows of alphabetized titles in their racks. Geek debates of every stripe and genre stopped and all eyes focused on a sight more rare than an original _Lucasfilm_ one-sheet of "Revenge of the Jedi."

_Two girls were in the store!_

_TWO!_

_GIRLS!_

Not that Charlotte was officially a "girl" in the regulars' lexicon. She was nerdier than the nerds and geekier than the geeks. And only Larry Possible—Galactic Outer, Dungeon Magus, Dragon Tamer, Level Five Tachyon Warrior—could go toe-to-toe with the redheaded femfan and have any hope of battling to a draw on all things "F & SF".

But, suddenly, Charlotte's taxonomy as a female came into sharp focus as her "mundane" or "muggle" counterpart entered the fanboys' inner sanctum!

Two! Count 'em! Two REDHEADS stood in the main aisle, staring at each other like gunslingers from rival gangs, sizing each other up!

_Ladies and gentlemen: Kim Possible was in the building!_

"Where's your cousin, Possible?" Charlotte drawled, her voice dripping with disdain. "After all, it isn't his birthday."

Kim's lips curled up in a disturbing smirk. "_You_ would know that better than me."

A chorus of "oooooooooohs!" erupted around them.

Charlotte glared around her but wherever she looked, the other nerds were seemingly oblivious to the confrontation, reading upside down comics and taking forever to count the pips on their many-sided dice.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," the nerd queen fired back. And started to turn away.

"I need your help," Kim said.

Everyone was staring again.

"What kind of help?" Charlotte wanted to know.

"Help playing a trick on my cousin."

Her nose went up in the air. "Not interested."

"Oh. Well. Then…okay…" Kim said, feigning defeat. "I guess I can ask Bonnie, instead." She turned back toward the door.

"B-bonnie?" Charlotte stammered a little, betraying her interest.

"Rockwaller," Kim answered over her shoulder. "She was a cheerleader at my old high school. I probably should have asked her first. Larry always wanted to meet her. It will probably make getting him involved easier—though she won't be as good at fooling him as you would have—never mind. I can make it work. Sorry to have bothered you." And she started toward the exit, making sure that the other redhead had plenty of time to reconsider before she reached the door.

"Hold on—"

**RSVP**

Monique almost forgot to wash her hair.

She couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed a real shower—thanks to that damned leg cast. But now, all of a sudden, it seemed like a bad dream. The cast was gone, her leg was completely healed—there weren't even any scars from where the bullet had entered and exited. Her thigh was as smooth and unblemished as—well, not a newborn's. She had seen newborn babies and they were all wrinkly. Maybe a two-month old…

She paused in moving her washcloth down there.

The horniness was not unexpected.

But why was she thinking about babies all of a sudden?

**RSVP**

"Shujin," she called him.

_Husband._

He smiled as she toweled him off. Sometimes, after a hard day's work on the new room for their house or training the advanced class or cutting and gathering firewood for the school and the elderly, she would reserve a private room at the Yamanouchi _onsen _and prepare a special bath for him.

And afterwards, they would walk back up the path together, beneath the moon and stars, to the warmth of their now-expanding hut, to enjoy the final portion of the bathing ceremony beneath the sheets of their marriage bed.

Soon to be "family" bed!

Tonight there was no moon, no stars.

Tonight the path was very short and there was no slope.

Just the short climb onto the unfamiliar mattress.

There she tucked him in once more as she had so often before.

And if the familiar skies and the familiar hut and the familiar bed was not there...

...at least _she_ was there: tsuma.

_Wife._

And that was all that mattered.

He caught her wrist as she tried to step back. "Where are you going?"

"I…" Yoshiko Kyoko was confused.

_No, I am tired_, she thought. _Stoppable-sama is confused…_

But her mind seemed to have slipped into a fog and her legs were unsteady. Another tug on her wrist brought her stumbling against her bed and she sat down on the edge of the mattress before her legs became any more rubbery.

"Yori…" Ron murmured, "…I have missed you…"

_He dreams of his dead wife_, Yoshi thought as another migraine crept across her brain.

Of late she had been plagued by mind-numbing headaches. Sometimes they brought mild auditory hallucinations—_voices_—like the one in her head just now…

_Hai, koishii, my arms have ached to embrace you, as well…_

The only relief she had been able to find was to lie down and wait for it to pass. Oftentimes, she would slip into a semi-conscious state, plagued by vivid dreams and wild imaginings. A period of light sleep was often the quickest cure for these states.

But her bed was currently occupied.

"Be with me," that occupant moaned, tugging again on her wrist. "I've been so lonely…"

_As have I, Ron-kun..._ the other voice whispered in her head.

Yoshiko Kyoko's eyes rolled back in her head and she fell back into the unconscious embrace of her employer.

**RSVP**

"Enchance the video."

Dr. Porter's fingers flew over the keyboard and the video from the drone began to re-clarify, pixel by pixel.

"It looks like her," Betty Director decided.

"She's got the moves," Shego agreed.

"But…the hair," Zita stammered.

"Zat ees how 'er 'air came out after ze transformation," Electronique explained.

"Well then, who's the guy she's wailin' on up there?" Vivian queried.

"I think that's Bates," Shego said, peering closely at the blonde roboticist's computer screen.

"Bates…" the GJ agent pondered. "Wasn't he—"

"Monkeyfist's man." Shego confirmed.

"So there's a monkey connection," Zita said, stating the obvious.

**RSVP**

"Yori…my love…" his voice tickled her ear and his arms tightened around her waist.

Yoshi teetered on the edge of consciousness but Ron's embrace anchored her for the moment.

She knew that she should get up…

…but it was so pleasant to just lie here in his arms.

She knew that she should wake him…warn him that she was not who he thought she was…

…but she knew that it would break his heart.

_And maybe hers, too, a little._

She had come to admire him even before her assignment to watch over his little sister. In close proximity, he had, at first, intrigued her and then caught her fancy.

The crushing soon followed.

But nobody knew that. She had remained strictly professional in all of her dealings with him.

But then the dreams had started…

And, she suspected, some sleepwalking during some restless nights…

Which meant a creeping loss of control.

_Like right now._

**RSVP**

Death is but a part of the eternal cycle.

This was one of the first lessons you learned as a practitioner of Ninjutsu.

Every lesson, every mission, every battle, you were trained to the inevitability of death and daily meditation prepared your mind, heart and soul to accept the inevitability of death when it came to embrace you.

But she had rebelled.

Not so much for her own life and her love for The Chosen One…

…but for the life that was the wondrous result of that love: their mutual gift to one another and the world.

So, she fought—as she always had.

Death was but another enemy: to be fought, to be resisted...

Even if it could not be truly defeated.

So she had fought a delaying action: feinting and dodging and sending her spirit into the mists of the ghost paths.

Praying that Death might not find her before her time.

But, as she wandered, lost and alone in the mists, her heart ached for her beloved and she would come to him as best she could when Death was asleep or looking the other way.

Sometimes it was enough to caress his face or ruffle his hair on the night wind.

She had learned to her sorrow after one incursion that his dreams were a dangerous labyrinth, haunted by a giggling monster with red eyes and blue skin.

And sometimes—when his need was great enough—or hers—she would borrow the flesh of another while they slept.

It was easiest to work within those who shared her genetic heritage. Her husband's former cheer and classmate, Hope.

_And Yoshiko Kyoko._

There were several factors that favored the older woman.

She had ties to Yamanouchi as well as Global Justice and possessed the skills and athleticism that enabled her to scale the outer wall of the warehouse in her sleep. She held Yori's beloved in great esteem and affection—something that was true of Hope, as well, but the younger woman had less experience in the ways of the world and was not as fitting a vessel for one who had shared her body intimately with The Chosen One.

Not that anything like that had happened…

_Yet…_

**RSVP**

Bonnie Rockwaller gathered up her book bag and twist-tied a dozen hanging outfits from her closet. Laying them carefully on her dorm bed, she undressed and reached for her robe before popping down the hall for a quick shower in communal bathroom for the eighth floor of the Upperton U. girl's dorm.

She had dumped her suitcase from Babastan out in Tara's apartment after her friend had invited her to share quarters in the warehouse. As soon as Tara had been cleaned up and put to bed, Bonnie had rushed out the door to avoid any awkward conversations with Brick.

It would take several trips to move all of her stuff out of her dorm room but, for tonight, she just needed some extra clothes and her textbooks.

Her shower was quick and more of a means of cooling down than repeating the ablutions that had already been attended to Ron's bathtub. Toweling off hurriedly, she threw her robe back on and headed back down the hall. As she walked she made a mental list to see if she was forgetting something.

Her only excuse was that she was distracted.

Distracted enough to be surprised-once again-by an unexpected visitor, waiting for her back in her dorm room

To be fair, however, she could never have possibly expected _this_ somebody to be waiting for her!

**RSVP**

Kim settled back into the pilot's chair of the hoverpod and morphed her hair color from her original redhead coloring to its more recent black with red highlights appearance. She had briefly considered using her Camille-leon power to go back to her pre-explosion coloring but had finally decided that the darker look suited her.

New agenda: new appearance.

"So," Charlotte asked from the co-pilot's seat," you need your cousin to serve as your battle strategist?"

"I prefer the term, _consigliere_," Kim answered, taking the pod straight up and entering in the coordinates for their next stop-off.

"Do you really think that he'd be any good at it?"

Kim nodded. "Well, he's done something very much like this once before and he did an excellent job the last time."*****

"So what do you need me for?"

"Well, this time around he may need more of a distraction. You, Charlotte, are going to be that distraction. You're going to convince him that he's playing a LARK."

"I think you mean 'LARP,' Kimberly."

"And _that's_ the other thing. I need someone who speaks Geek…"

**RSVP**

His lips were on their neck, nuzzling that soft spot that had always made her toes curl!

And it was obvious that it was having a similar effect on her host.

Yori was of two minds—figuratively as well as literally.

On the one hand this…this…_mizutengeisha_…was shameless in allowing herself to cross the line in her relationship with her employer.

Allowing him to manhandle her so while he was not accountable for his actions.

Her _saiai_ had no real interest in this _baka-onna_! It was only that he sensed his wife's nearness—mistook the flesh that she rode for her own body was nearly half a world away and unresponsive.

Were his eyes truly open and ready to see, he would push this one away. Force her from the room and his presence.

And, while a part of her wanted that…

…she longed to be held, once more!

She wished to touch him in ways that he could truly feel!

And in ways that she might feel once again…

**RSVP**

Heather had stepped outside for a little privacy to call her agent.

The expected two minute call turned into five—and then ten—and then twenty minutes as she tried to explain what she had seen and experienced over the past week or so to her agent back in Hollywood.

Perry Anthrust listened to his client with growing skepticism. Most of the actors he represented were rather high strung and more than a few had a tendency to indulge in the pharmaceuticals that encouraged hallucinations and rabid paranoid states.

"Sure, sure, doll face!" he said, playing along. "You want I should see if one of the studios wants to send out a scriptwriter? This sounds like an _unbelievable_ string of story ideas for the movie…"

"Yeah, Perry, that sounds like a good idea," Heather said, suddenly realizing that she had wandered across the street and was currently pacing back and forth in that vacant lot near the campus. "Just one thing though," she added as she considered how the setting sun was darkening the landscape. "Make sure they send a guy. You understand? No girls. Unless they're over sixty. Only guys. Right?"

"Sure, sure'; whatever you want Kiddo. But, listen, the studios are gonna want a commitment soon. Some of the smaller outfits might try to rush something into production with a no-name actress and that makes the big boys nervous."

"Yeah? Well that's okay for some kind of direct-to-video schlock. The big studios will wait. Who else could play Kim Possible in a serious production?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone coming toward her.

"Well, babe, there's been some talk about the girl who plays Chastity on Agony County stepping up."

"What? She's a blonde!"

"Sweetie Pie, I hear the make-up professionals have come up with this new special effect. It's called hair coloring."

"Oh, ha ha. You know what I mean." Heather was tensing up a little until she recognized the woman heading her way.

"Well, I'm just advising you as your agent, not to keep the studios waiting too long. A week or two at the most. A whole month would be very bad."

"Yeah, sure. I'll get back to you. Bye, Perry." She clicked off and turned to face Bonnie who was stalking back towards the warehouse with a pile of hanging clothes slung over her shoulder.

"Hey, Bonnie!" she said as the brunette came near to passing her. "You were awesome today!"

The expression on Bonnie Rockwaller's face was somewhere between a frown and a sneer and, at first, Heather thought that Ron's friend hadn't heard her. She opened her mouth to ask if something was wrong and got her answer before she could even speak.

Bon Bon's fist came out of nowhere and smacked the Hollywood starlet between the eyes. Heather dropped like a sack of bananas.

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><p><strong>Footnotes<strong>

* Episode: "Larry's Birthday" (Season 4)

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: "<strong>**Suppono Subpono" is Latin for "to put in place of", "substitute", or "forge". Yeah? You think you know why that is the title of this chapter? You're only half right: keep reading…**

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><p><strong>AuthorsNotes: ****_Still looking for votes for the final five._**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 30<strong>

_CajunBear73 12/18/12 . chapter 30_

Man, someone's been taking a ride on the mystical express here...So Yori's been out searching for ways to 'reconnect' with Ron? Oh boy, morning will be so the drama at Ron's place.

But now the identity of the new 'Mastermind' has been established and Electronique's intel on that sitch may give them help in taking down that enterprise.

Now about Bonnie playing Knockout with Heather...

CB73

**_The sad thing is, you could probably remove Ron completely from the equation and STILL have plenty of drama! ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 1218/12 . chapter 30_

Bonny Boo has a punch? Ho boy. Lemme see here, we have the harem crushing on the buffoon. I wonder when that's gonna wear off?

ST-103

**_A punch? Oh this Bonnie's got more than "a punch" I'm afraid... R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 1220/12 . chapter 30_

okay yori your being creepy weird / creird

**_"Creird" I like it! In fact, I need a title for the next chapter, so... R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 1230/12 . chapter 30_

Oh, for the love of all right and holy. Could there possibly be more complications heaped upon the existing complications? The answer is: of course there could be. Should there be is a wholly different issue.

That said, I've only one thought recurring throughout this epic: KP is going to feel horribly silly when that malfunctioning chip is finally out of the picture. Not that Ron isn't going to feel equally silly by current events, never mind recent decisions on his part, mind.

What a lunatic mess.

**_(1) _****For the love of all right and holy?****_ Which story are you reading? Not this one! (2) _****Could there possibly be more complications?****_ Ah, thank you! I love a challenge! I'll see what I can do. (3) _****Should there be?****_ Why not? I'm finally getting warmed up. (4) Yes they will—assuming that either or both survive. (5) _****Lunatic Mess?****_ At last somebody understands the deeper themes of this literary journey. R~13_**

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><p><em>zafnak 817/13 . chapter 30_

Ah ha. So it was Yori's astral form that invaded Ron's bedroom that one night and her footprint they found.

And now she can hijack bodies too? Perfect.

And yes! Cousin Larry will soon be there, but will he be turning to the Dark Side? Of course! They have cookies!

**_Well, actually, I tried to infer that Yori had hijacked Yoshi's body on that particular incursion but that there had also been multiple instances and Hope had also been an unconscious participant a time or two. Although the other thing that I meant to infer over the loooonnng arc was that-up till now-those hijackings were pretty much confined to "harmless" and unconscious cuddling. Given the length and complexity of the story, it's easy to drop or forget little details. If this were a complete book (or 2 complete books by now) a careful reader might be able to stay on track or flip back a few chapters to double check something. Unfortunately, the FanFiction format or gettin a chapter every few days means a real disjointed reading experience. Kudos to you and any other reader who can still connect the dots to past scenes or even knows what the hell is going on now! As for the cookies, Ron may be a culinary master but its Dr. D. who obsesses over his cookie baking skills! (LOL) R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 818/13 . chapter 30_

"That Zonda, really! It's like a lion in orange dungarees. Kind of fierce, but ridiculous all at the same time." – Jeremy Clarkson

That was a weird chapter. Too many scene changes to understand what's going on. I may have to re-read the past 2 chapters to get it. I wanted to review the last chapter, but with that huge review, I decided to wait for the next chapter. So here it is: You know if I remember correctly, "50 Shades of Grey" was not written when Kim Possible was airing. Kimzilla? Isn't she the wife of Godzilla? Did Yoshi mean age-jorō: geisha who are professionals and highly educated in all arts? Onsen-geisha I think are just ordinary geisha or are below the mise-jorō. Of course Onsen refers to springs, hot water springs, I believe. Since when did Ron get Dragons?

Nah, I'm still reading because it's a good story. In all honesty there are a very few good and active stories in the "Kim Possible" category regardless of whether or not he's with more than one girl. When I had written that, I had forgotten that there were some other non-Harem stories out there. As for Zorpox, I think he knows that the girls already liked Ron. I seem to recall that in Book 1 that prior to Ron messing with their memories they had taken a liking to him. It wasn't Zorpox who had Bonnie lie and say that Ron was her boyfriend, nor was it Karen who gave Amelia advice about how to get Ron.

I think Zorpox also knows that Ron has been through a lot: Losing Rufus, the "falling out" with Kim, losing Yori and his unborn child. So I think in his own way he's trying to give Ron some happiness and move on, and correct the mistake that Ron made. But that's just me.

That was a reference to the show with those 3 goofy British guys: Jezza (All we know is, he's called The Stig.), Hammond (I have not had my teeth whitened!) and Captain Slow (It's no wonder Michael Schumacher retired. He's slower than me!). It's called Top Gear.

**_Let's see...going down the list:_**

**_Yeah, as I've gone back and re-edited and occasionally fleshed out the pervious chapters, I come to these "bridge" chapters that fall between the bigger events. They're usually meant to fill in the gaps, mark the passage of time, get the characters from Point A to Point C, and/or set things up for the next "event." A little bridge (or bridges) to help the reader make the jump. _**

**_On the one hand, too much "filler" is boring and wastes time for the reader who's waiting for something interesting to happen. So I try to keep it to a minimum. In this case, it was one of those chapters where I was doing several bridges at once, most relatively short, but the number of scenes (especially the short ones) made for a spazzy read. THEN...on top of that, I looked at the word and page count and decided that the chapter was too short and needed some bulking up. So, I added in the two scenes where Kim went to recruit Charlotte...which just meant the whole thing jumped around that much more! _**

**_Sorry. BTW, I realize that the show has been off the air for some time now and my bringing in so many characters that were only in an episode or two may be confusing for some of the readers out there so let me take this opportunity to suggest YouTube (which has all of the episodes) and other online websites like the Kim Possible Wiki for any background info you might need on characters or series storylines/sitches._**

**_Ya got me on the 50 Shades of Grey! No wonder Big Daddy Brotherson wasn't getting it. As to why Kim was familiar? Maybe I could retcon it by saying she was on the FanFiction site back when it was being written as a Twilight FanFic... Ehh! Maybe its a timeline glitch from the Tempus Simia... Oh! Look over there! (Dodges)_**

**_Without going back and checking my notes (I'm on lunch hour right now) the term Onsen Geisha was applied to the women who worked some of the bath houses and were sometimes known to make sure that the customers not only had a pleasant scrub but also a "happy ending." Not all of them but it eventually tainted enough reputations so than many were considered to be little better than prostitutes..._**

**_Dragons? Are you referring to one of Cousin Larry's titles as "Dragon Tamer"? It was used in reference to him twice in the episode "Cousin Larry's Birthday." _**

**_Or the "Buffoon's Dragoons"? The term "dragoon" originally referred to mounted cavalry but eventually evolved to mean light cavalry and personnel. You can start thinking of the girls as Ron's troops or "dragoons" now. _**

**_And Kimzilla matches her personality quite well from time to time. I think the denizens of the underworld are going to find the nickname more apt now that they're dealing with Dark Kim._**

**_Thanks for calling this a good story. I sometimes feel like I came to the party late, after most of the guests went home, and that only the KIGO folk stayed behind and are giving me suspicious looks._**

**_Ole Zorpy's relationship to Ron is a complicated one in this story and he's going to be coming out to play in a few chapters. You've been warned. And, yes, there are several other factors at play besides Zorpox's misuse of the MMP. High school is over and, with the fall of the food chain, all that childish, faux social crap is dropping away so that the real Ron has a chance to shine. He's more mature, now, and out from Kim's shadow. The world witnessed his defeat of the Lowardian invasion. He's rich. He's a nice guy. All of these things make him a real catch. And those who never considered him eligible are noticing that Kim hasn't been around for awhile. Also, women can get a bit competitive and putting so many of them together under one roof is sure to make things interesting. NOW mix in the MMP with Zorpox looking to make things more interesting. I'm probably being unrealistic in how mild things have been. So far._**

**_I'm kind of aware of Top Gear-watched ten minutes of it once a year or two back-but not really conversant, ya know. I think there's a Ron/Cars/Harem fic somewhere around here where he races Bonnie's car as "The Stig."_**

**_Whew! R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 910/13 . chapter 30 _

Holy Crap! Bonnie comes out of left field with a right hook!

**_Well, ole Bon Bon never was known for "pulling her punches." R~13_**

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 30 . 108/14_

Very interesting chapter. Well written. Damn Bonnie was something at the end. Nice shot from her. Ron really needs to be told what is happening this PTSD is very unhealthy and they should stop enabling it. I can see Shego or Monique smacking him and telling him what's up but also forcing him to seek help and make sure he attends counselling. Kim plan is interesting. Nice sex scene at the start definitely grabs people attention.

Looking forward to next chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Thanks! Glad you're still enjoying the ride. We will get Ron up and going soon. In the meantime, keep your eyes on Bonnie: talk about Ron's PTSD but it's Bonnie who really isn't herself! R~13**_


	31. Creird

**Authors/Notes**_**: In his review of the previous chapter, masterbow came up with the word **_**_"creird." It's a mashup of "creepy" and "weird." Which would describe more than one of my chapters but I'm using it here with his kind permission…_**

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><p><em><strong>As I post Chapter 31, here are the polls as they stand now<strong>_

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 2 votes**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The return of Camille Leon – 2 votes**_

_**The votes for the "Final Five":**_

_**Shego – 12 votes**_

_**Tara – 10 votes**_

_**Bonnie – 9 votes**_

_**Vivian – 8 votes**_

_**Yori – 7 votes**_

_**Electronique – 5 votes**_

_**Joss – 4 votes**_

_**Monique – 3 votes**_

_**Amelia – 3 votes**_

_**Betty – 2 votes**_

_**Yoshi – 2 votes**_

_**Shaula Lesath – 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _Not only do I NOT have any claims upon the characters, plots, or tertiary elements of the original Kim Possible series, I'm no longer sure that I have any emotional or creative associations with this piece of not-for-profit fan fiction, either…_

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><p><strong>Chapter 31 – Creird<strong>

"Zo, how do we tell heem?"

"It's simple," Shego answered. "We don't."

"What do you mean?" Betty Director asked. "Of course we tell him. We have to tell him!"

"Tell him what, Betts?"

"That his best friend and partner is alive!"

Shego scowled. "Assuming that he _understood_ that…" Seeing the puzzled expression on Electronique's face, she turned and said: "Stoppable is suffering from some kind of bizarre, selective amnesia. He doesn't remember who Kim Possible is."

"And what if this news jars his memory back into place," Betty argued.

"Fine," Shego retorted. "Say he suddenly remembers his best friend, crime-fighting partner, and rumored fiancée. After losing his wife and daughter, his parents, even his beloved but somewhat disgusting little pet, and suffering the strain of multiple assassination attempts—you're gonna smack him upside the head with the fact that Kim Possible is now a psychotic criminal mastermind who will probably kill him if he doesn't kill her first?"

Betty was taken aback as the new reality began to truly sink in.

"I don't think so!" Shego fumed. "At least, not yet! The boy's too fragile. This could break him, once and for all! Especially if he ends up killing her before he regains his full memory! We have to think this through!"

"We weel have to take Keem Possible down, ourselves," Electronique muttered ominously.

**RSVP**

Dr. Vivian Porter had reviewed the current perimeter security with the Possibles and looked over Dede's analysis of their current weak points. As she worked on a more sophisticated plan for the building, she made a side list of materials for a series of temporary fixes beyond the immediate job that the two redheads and the bot had just finished. Given the B-bots capabilities (and Ron's unlimited expense account) the warehouse could be upgraded with a number of automated defensive systems in seventy-two hours. And that was without tasking the extreme limits of the robotic super-speed that each of them were capable of.

Bebe had returned from her trip to the stores and had zipped about the building, furnishing the empty apartments with linens, towels, and toiletries. She should have been available to make another trip to some security firms and the hardware store with Ron's credit card before returning it to him.

Oddly, however, the blonde android was nowhere to be seen.

Vivian closed the files on her tablet and opened the app that she had recently created to keep tabs on the three artificial women. Dede was still in the main room—obviously—and Cece was, once again, mysteriously offline.

Or out of range.

This was a recurring mystery that begged more of her time and attention but somehow other items on her list kept bumping up into the higher priority section of her To Do's.

Right now she needed to know where Bebe had gotten herself to.

The applet pinged on her screen and threw up a 3-D schematic of the warehouse. A blinking dot appeared.

Bebe was downstairs. In the sub-basement.

The dot wasn't moving.

_What was she doing down there?_

Vivian got up and went to take a look.

**RSVP**

_The other missing robot suddenly stopped in the middle of changing out an I.V, and scanned the area around her in all directions. Nothing appeared to be different or threatening in the Possible basement. Yet…_

_Something is wrong, _Cece thought. Before she could pursue that line of inquiry, her patient opened his eyes.

"Are you real?" Wade Load asked the African American robot in a hoarse whisper.

**RSVP**

"So, where did you learn to shoot?" Zita asked as Monique dried off in the next room.

"Gun club," the black girl answered as she tossed her towel in the hamper and reached for the baby powder. "My dad's a hunter and, once I graduated, he wanted me to have a handgun for protection when I moved out. Guess Daddy was right."

"Yeah," the Hispanic girl agreed. "Though I doubt he expected it to be used on zombie monkeys."

"How about you, girl? Graduation present?"

"Naw…" Zita got up and began disrobing for her turn in the shower. "My brothers taught me to shoot. Gave me my very own Baby Glock when I started working late nights at the Middleton Megaplex."

"You any good?"

"I can hold my own against four or five stationary cans or bottles at thirty feet. You?"

Monique shook her head. "The only real practice I've gotten in the past six months was today, against undead monkeys."

"Maybe we could go to a range, somewhere, together…"

Monique nodded. "I'm starting to think Baby Boy, here, could use a couple of gunsels on staff."

"Maybe we could teach the others..."

**RSVP**

Captain Shaula Lesath was mired in a dilemma.

Her original mission was to evaluate this Blue Destroyer...find out if he was unique or merely a representative sample of the Earthers who populated this little planet…and whether or not such powers posed a threat to the Uptopians.

She had broad discretionary powers on this assignment. She had a green light to assassinate him should he pose a threat.

Or just to curry favor with the Lowardians, should it come to that.

Or she could attempt diplomatic contact for the purposes of forming an alliance against the giant, green aliens who had, heretofore, been unstoppable. No pun intended.

Or—if the conditions were right—she was told to try to turn him as an asset using any means at her disposal.\

While Shaula was considered attractive to members of her own species and had seduced more than a few Uptopians as part of her mission work, she wasn't sure how she felt about interspecies sex…should it come to that.

These were _aliens_ that she found herself among.

Culturally different—though not as much so as the monstrous Lowardians.

Outer pigments and some internal biological differences, as well.

Yet, they didn't seem to be that much different…at least in way that was strongly off-putting.

Certainly not like that creepy presence that had held her captive and all but molested her while she was immersed in the datastream!

And _here_ was the latest parameter to the equation she was trying to work out in her head. (And heart?)

That sniggering creature that had mentally stripped her and touched her and suggested doing unspeakable things to her—seemed to be stalking this Ron Stoppable.

Should she take the old position that "the enemy of my enemy is my friend"?

Or should she stay hidden and let this thing weaken or kill the Earther who defeated Warhok and Warmonga?

_Or was she too afraid to do anything lest the creepy thing come and find her again?_

She didn't know so, for now, she waited.

**RSVP**

Tara awoke alert and refreshed after a brief nap. Her pain was gone, her hangover was gone…

_Bonnie was gone._

Of course, Bonnie would have hung around until she fell asleep before going back to her dorm and packing a few things.

Tara glanced at her clock-radio and did some quick calculations. She hadn't been asleep all that long—yet her best friend (and now presumed rival) should have been back by now. Flipping the radio on briefly to be sure that she hadn't lost power she heard a snippet of a news bulletin. A chartered plane had gone down off the Yucatán peninsula. Something about a bunch of supermodels on board…

The whole apartment sitch was a work in progress. Ron had suggested that Tara move in to one of the empty units with her rent greatly reduced in exchange for her medical services. While, at first, it had seemed like a very good deal for her…if this simian zombie incursion was any indicator of future adventures on the Ron-front, it would probably end up being an even better deal for him and the other occupants in the long run.

She hadn't had time to bring much up from her little apartment in Lowerton but there would be more room than she needed even after she was done moving everything in. So when Bonnie had wondered aloud about the costs or renting one of the available units, Tara had offered to let her move in with her and split the already reduced rent. She had plenty of room and it would be easier to keep an eye on her rival if they were sharing quarters.

Besides, Tara still liked Bonnie and enjoyed her company…

…even if she didn't entirely trust her around Ron.

Speaking of whom, she needed to go properly thank him!

And see what was keeping Bonnie.

Tara climbed out of bed and started to reach for her robe.

And then thought the better of it.

**RSVP**

Brooklyn Decker awoke with a yawn and a little stretch. Airline seats—even those in a luxury jet charter—were not the best for napping. The flight to Cancún for the _Sports Illustrated_ swimsuit shoot, was a long one, however, and she was betting that most of her fellow supermodels were catching a little shut-eye, as well.

A face swam into view. A little man with a little goatee. Sallow complexion, German accent—oh yes, he was one of the agency reps, wasn't he?

"_He_l-lo, fräulein," he said pleasantly, although his half-smirk was a little disturbing. _And what was up with that 'hat'?_

"Are the other girls all right?" she asked, trying to figure out what had happened on the plane and why she felt so funny.

"You may be feelink a little dizzy," he was saying. "It is nozing but a leetle airsickness from ze turbulence. I zink you vill be feelink much better if you vill look at zis little light here…"

There was a flash of light and she couldn't see for a moment. As she blinked, she could hear his voice talking to her…

…telling her about a "mission" and something about a "target" with a funny name…

**RSVP**

Amelia slipped out of her sleeping chamber without waking Crystal. More importantly, she had managed to avoid any encounters with guards, servants, or crossing a threshold that would activate the shock collar around her neck.

She was counting on the bulk of Big Daddy Brotherson's security being invested in the outer perimeter of his mansion and the estate grounds.

As she glided from shadow to alcove, and alcove to shadow, she fumed inwardly at this latest development in their captive status.

Ever since they had been abducted, everyone had worried that they were about to be murdered—or worse! Sold off to white slavers! Subjected to daily rapes and beatings! Degraded and forced to toil as telemarketers or door-to-door salesgirls!

But, no!

Aside from being forced to practice the forms of Middle-eastern and Oriental dance under Crystal's tutelage, they were all treated as favored guests. The best food. Access to a pool and spa. Daily massages. They each had their own pair of slaves assigned to them!

Amelia gritted her teeth in annoyance: she could really learn to like this lifestyle!

But now it was about to come to an end. Tomorrow they would be traded off, sent away…

Not to some Saudi prince or an old, fat, sweaty multi-billionaire!

But to Kim Freakin' Possible!

Amelia repressed a small growl. She was approaching her destination and it wouldn't do to be discovered prematurely.

She was alone in this. Hope and Marcella were too busy "comforting" each other. Every chance they got.

Crystal seemed to spend all of her free time navel-gazing. And Maggie and Linda had been scarce of late. No wonder they were cheerleading alternates…

Amelia frowned. No, the others were just going to weigh her down. Better to break free now, and be shed of them. She knew what she had to do. She gripped the steak knife that she had palmed in the kitchen this evening and slipped into Big Daddy Brotherson's bedroom.

**RSVP**

Dr. Porter took a couple of wrong turns before finding the stairs that took her down into the sub-sub basement.

The area she found herself in was bigger than a crawl-space but had no appreciable room thanks to the nest of pipes, conduits, and ductwork branching out from the power plant, generators, and environmental equipment that serviced the rest of the building.

Still, the locater-beacon for the Bebe bot indicated that she was down here and hadn't moved in some time.

Vivian flipped on the light switch.

The area beyond the doorway remained dark.

While she hadn't carried a flashlight down with her, Vivian was enough of a nerd (albeit a hot one) to come prepared. Selecting an app on her computer tablet, she switched on the light-emitting-diode on the device's back that was usually reserved for taking flash pictures.

Armed with this temporary solution, she entered the darkness.

Glass crunched underfoot. She swung the small light down and then up at the ceiling. Something—or someone—had systematically smashed all of the lights in the room. She suddenly experienced a long forgotten sensation: all of the fine, blonde hairs on the nape of her neck were stirring and standing straight up and her arms were erupting in swatches of gooseflesh...

**RSVP**

Kyoko Yoshiko stared at the dead woman who haunted her dreams of late. "I am dreaming again, aren't I?" she asked the ghost of Yori Stoppable.

The other Japanese woman shook her head. "This is not the same, Yoshiko-sama. We meet in a place that is just outside of the Realm of Dreams."

"What does this mean?"

Yori shook her head. "I—am not sure. I only know that we share a common bond."

"Ron-kun…"

"Hai. He is my beloved. You…hold him in high esteem."

"I—" Words failed Hana's _au pair._

"Though we are not across the border of the Realm of Dreams, I have seen you there and I know that you look upon my husband with desire," Yori explained. "No—do not be ashamed. While we are apart, it is only fitting that his loneliness be tempered by those who would honor him. I—I do not disapprove."

Yoshi was amazed. "Then why do you come here, to me, now?"

"I have come to visit my _koishii_ and, once again, I find you here."

"I-I'm sorry…I should go…"

"No!" The fire in the ghostly _kunoichi's_ eyes blazed with an eerie blue light. "I—I wish to propose a—an experiment."

"Experiment?" Yoshi was intrigued. Her fascination with all things related to her mysterious Ron-tono, especially his deceased wife, drew her closer to the _shinrei _before her.

"I wish to propose a—joining."

"A what?"

"I—wish to be with my beloved…for…what time I might be granted. I wish to hold him and be held. To touch him and be touched. I cannot do this without flesh. Without a body. You—have harbored such thoughts, such feelings. I believe that if you were to lend me your flesh—for but a little while—you would not find our intimacy unpleasant."

"And what would happen to me?" Yoshi asked. "Where would I go?"

"It is your body. You would remain while we share. You would just…give over control to me for but a while."

"And would I still see what you see? Feel what you feel?"

"I…do not...know. But I believe so."

"And this would not bother you?"

Yori's spirit looked down. "I am in no position to gainsay you in anything you do towards my Ron-kun. You are here and I am…not." She glanced up then looked away. "I will be grateful for any chance I might have to hold him once more. And if there is...something...here for you, as well...might you not be more willing to…let me in?"

**RSVP**

Dr. Amy Hall's usually chipper mood had eroded over the weeks and months it had taken her to get to this point in her plan.

First, there was all the extra time and effort spent in hiding her plots and preparations from Mastermind and her other minions. Only Dementor had found out and, luckily, he had turned out to be an ally.

Then there was the problem of her own wobbly DNA. Ever since she had purged the gorilla DNA from her system and returned to her normal human form, she had been experiencing some unstable mutations and had to give herself additional mutagenic treatments to try and stabilize her cellular metabolisms. She had yet to get a permanent fix in place and had to repeatedly tweak her chromosomes every few days or her body would start doing strange things.

Very strange things!

_Aargh! She didn't need the additional complications right now!_

And now the serum she had packed up into the mountains of Japan had started to go bad without refrigeration!

Unfortunately she had little choice. Dr. Amy Hall couldn't exactly put her gene-splicing equipment into her backpack and tote it into the wilds of Japan and up into the Yamanouchi range!

So she had prepared a large batch of gene-altering serum tailored to the Japanese _macaque_ or snow monkeys. Using each successive, transformed "cuddlebuddy" to catch the next for injection, she had built a small army.

First, they had helped her retrieve the mystic scrolls.

Now, they were tunneling beneath Yamanouchi mountain.

Each bucketful of dirt, each pail of shattered rock brought her closer to the petrified remains of her beloved Monty, where the Yono had taken him after their disastrous encounter with The Han.

The serum, now corrupted as the formula continued to degrade, was producing mutations in her simian troops that were monstrous even by DNAmy's standards. But she could neither stop nor turn back now!

Any day now might bring her to her entombed and petrified cuddlemonkey! As her increasingly distorted simian forces continued to work on two different fronts, finding new monkey "recruits" and digging deeper beneath the great mountain, she hoped that they would reach Lord Monkeyfist soon…

Before her grotesque troops turned on her or the tunnel gave way, wiping out months of careful preparation and work.

**RSVP**

"Bonnie!" Tara started to jog across the lobby toward her friend. Suddenly realizing that her PJs, particularly in her un-robed state, were doing little to restrain and contain her perkier assets, she slowed to a brisk walk. "Where have you been?"

Bonnie Rockwaller turned at the sound of her name and frowned as she saw her soon-to-be roommate.

It wasn't the reaction that Tara was expecting.

Nor was her friend's attire.

During Bonnie's trip back to her dorm she had apparently decided to "slut it up" a little. She was wearing back hip-huggers with a matching décolleté bra. Barely covering her torso was a teal-colored shirt that matched her eyes and left little to the imagination as it was made of a see-through, gauzy material. Once again the platinum blonde was reminded that Bonnie was a potential and potent rival for Ron's attentions. She just hadn't counted on Bonnie being so overt about her intentions.

"Where is he?" Bonnie demanded, as Tara came up to her. "Where is Stoppable?"

There was something in her voice that gave Tara pause. Bonnie sounded…angry? Why would she be angry? At Ron? It was as if she had suddenly reverted to the Bonnie of old.

High school Bonnie.

The Queen of Mean.

The girl who thought Ron Stoppable was a "loser," A "froob." Someone to be stepped on.

Before she could say anything in response, a distant scream echoed up from the basement.

**RSVP**

"Aw, c'mon, Tina!" Nicky Nick pleaded as he drove a little too fast. Their dinner at the restaurant was cut short as a hoard of fans had started to gather. Now they were trying to outrun the paparazzi who had been tipped off before they could get to the car.

"How many times do I have to keep telling you, Nicholas? We had our fun. As I remember, you were the one who didn't want to be tied down. I just want to be friends, now."

"It's Stoppable, isn't it," he said through clenched teeth as he swerved to avoid a dog. "You two have something going on on the side!"

"That's none of your business!"

The former boy band singer frowned. "I worry about you, Brit! Stoppable may be a great guy and all but he's not safe. Look at what happened today. Zombie monkeys! Am I jealous? Yeah. I know I got no chance against a guy who defeated an alien invasion. But if you're going to date him, at least don't stay in the building where he lives. That place won't ever be safe!"

**RSVP**

Between Shego and Electronique, there was enough ambient light in the depths of the sub-basement to see Bebe quite clearly.

The robot no longer looked completely human. Or even humanoid!

The polymer flesh had been shredded away here and there from external blows while it had ruptured outwards from exploded armatures and overloaded electronics throughout the interior structures. The fembot's head had been ripped off and half-crushed, destroying the positronic brain inside of its now misshapen skull. Oil and hydraulic fluid ran like blood down the damaged synthoflesh to pool on the floor and the stink of ozone filled their nostrils.

"What the hell could have done this?" Shego wanted to know.

Dr. Porter shook her head. "Whatever it was, it's very powerful and I'm thinking very scary."

"Vivian, can you do an autopsy?" Betty Director asked. "On the robot? It might give us a better idea of what we're dealing with."

"I'll try."

"And you saw nuhzing? Electronique asked the blonde roboticist.

"No." Vivian shivered. "The broken bulbs already had me on edge. As soon as I saw…" She shook her head and swallowed. "I thought whatever did this was going to tear me apart, next. Fortunately, it must have already been gone or I would have seen it get past me."

"Gone from here," Shego mused, "but it could still be on the premises. It still could be—" Her face suddenly fell and the nimbus of green plasma flared around her hands.

"Ron…" she whispered.

They turned as one and ran for the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: See the first Authors  Notes at the beginning of the chapter.**

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><p><strong>AN 2: **_**Still looking for votes for the final five. And by "final" five, I mean the next "tier" before the confrontation with Dark Kim…**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 31<strong>

_Uberscribbler 1/6/13 . chapter 31_

Just when things were starting to make more sense. Not complete sense, mind; this is Riplakish we're talking about. That Dadist performance art of the 1920s was more easily understood than the author's innumerable threads-become-whole-cloth.

Probably explains why we-who-need-medication-to-make-it-through-the-day keep returning. That says something (although what it says I'm unsure).

**_It will probably hurt a lot less if you just relax and stop trying to make sense of it. Or pay Pavelius to explain it to you: he's been ahead of me as to what was going to happen next more often than not since I started writing this mess… R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 16/13 . chapter 31_

A lot of stuff going on at the same time...in real life that happens.

**_Yep. And in different time-zones here… R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 16/13 . chapter 31_

Ok, here's one for the final five: Kim, if she's redeemable...

But so many dominoes in place going in so many other directions, yet they seem to converge on Ron Stoppable. It's a wonder where you take each path along the way.

But for a new chapter title from a 'suggestion': How about 'Smuckers!' LOL!

CB73

**_Are you referring to their slogan: "With a name like Smuckers it has to be good"? LOL R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 17/13 . chapter 31_

glad you liked my word but maybe but you should let people know what it means also yori is still being creird and amelia has stepped her game up

**_Okay, with this rewrite I moved the explanation to the front of the chapter. Now I need some more chapter titles as I'm suffering from title fatigue—among other things… R~13_**

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><p><em>Fulgrim 122/13 . chapter 31_

Just found this magnificent blockbuster of a series - fantastic work! :)

My votes for the Final Five are:  
>Yori<br>Shego  
>Electronique<br>Tara  
>Vivian<p>

Keep up the great work! :)

P.S.: Have you considered the idea of Ron getting cloned to resolve some of the potential 'ships involving him? Just a thought... :D

**_Welcome aboard the train to crazytown! Glad you're enjoying the ride so far. I've added your votes. Clones? Cloning anyone would be unethical, especially Ron, and—OH! LOOK OVER THERE! (points & ducks around the corner) R~13_**

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><p><em>Wanderer3 820/13 . chapter 31_

Great work as always. Now we get to where you left it the LAST TIME you reposted everything.  
>Hope you go a fair bit longer and maybe finish the story before you decide to repost it all AGAIN.<p>

As for the votes: I'd cast my vote in for Monique and just for something different Betty Director. Both are very underused in fanfics...if used at all. One or two of the other ladies I'd vote for already have enough so I'm leaving it at that.

Peace out.

**_Thanks Wanderer! And I promise to go another 6 chapters at least before starting over...heh..._**

**_And I've added your votes to the next chapter. I know what you mean about the over abundance of stories focusing on the same characters over and over. Take that Kim Possible character for instance... (LOL) R~13_**

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><p>the Desert Fox 821/13 . chapter 31

"Coop! Blow these guys up!"- Jamie  
>"I can't! They're not the bad guys!"- Coop<br>"That's never stopped you before!"- Jamie  
>Another good chapter. Creird? A combination of creepy and weird? Thanks for bringing back Shaula. You know I like how that the girls continue to lead normal lives instead of walking around half-naked like it was the Playboy Mansion.<p>

So we have Brooklyn Decker, will Giselle and Anne Hathaway be there as well? I don't think Yori thought this through. If Ron didn't have selective amnesia and Yoshi starts acting, talking and behaving like Yori, I think Ron would freak. Now the fact that he does, Ron still won't react the way that Yori thinks he will. That's the main problem I have with Yori/Ron pairings or even with Yori in general. While she may be smart/wise/all-knowing when it comes to mad ninja skills, when it comes to Ron or even the ways of the Western World, she is naïve in this area. I think if Yori were to try and get together with Ron, she needs to study the ways of the Ron Stoppable. Sort of a know-your-enemy or in this case, know-your-Ron. This is what puts Kim and the other girls ahead of Yori, but I think this might have to do with the Japanese society. I'm not saying I dislike Yori, I'm just saying that when it comes to the ways of Ron, she is the underdog.

As much as I dislike Nicky and the other "O Boyz", he does have a point albeit in a way that wasn't exactly nice. Even though they're not together, he just wants to make sure that she doesn't get hurt. I think if Kim and Ron had not gotten together, he would've had more girls interested in him than you can shake a stick at, after what happened at graduation.

Hmm, long response. It's always a good idea to use notes, diagrams etc. to help with writing your story. Too little filler can be confusing and yes too much filler can be boring (take that annoyingly long fic that no longer has point in which Ron has become sort of a Don Juan de Marco.) No I remember Charlotte, it's one of the few times where nerd romance is not stupid or clichéd. I don't think Kim remembered anything from "A Sitch in Time". Neither did Ron, and meat cakes don't count. For some reason I can't see Kim with Godzilla's body. Yeah, that generally happens when certain shows are no longer running. This is why Gundam Wing/Sailor Moon pairings are no longer popular. Ron as the Stig? I can't see Ron being quiet for more than 5 minutes. And no I don't communicate with any of the other reviewers.

Keep up the good work.

**_But are the Glorft analogous to the Lowardians? And can Ron get his hands on a MEGAS in time (pun intended)? _**

**_As for Shaula, your welcome and my bad for the delay. One of the reasons for the rewrite was to tighten and tidy up the aliens storylines. I got distracted the last few chapters and now I'm playing catchup before Ursula Major shows up._**

**_Yeah, factoring the girls into the Possibilities Project has taken a lot longer than I had planned. But so is the rehabbing of the warehouse. Zombie monkies don't help with construction deadlines. The idea of zombie loveslaves doesn't appeal to me, either. If this were to become a harem story (stubbornly sticking to the position that it really isn't by strict definition so far) the idea of a number or women happily sharing Ron (and Ron not freaking out) would quickly become boring (not to mention unrealistic-but what is actually realistic in this story?). This is not to say that total monogamy is the only inevitability by the story's endgame. Several readers have made compelling arguments for certain "limited" polyandrous relationships. We shall see..._**

**_In the meantime, the girls (who remain interested) will see the others as rivals and that means bumpy roads ahead. But you're right: Heff-I mean, Ron-should probably enforce some sort of dress code inside the warehouse..._**

**_Anne Hathaway isn't really a model so I don't see her turning up in the stampede. Maybe she'll wander in later... _**

**_Yori...(sigh)...well, poor Yori is-quite literally-in limbo right now. Has been since early in Part I. As you've seen in her interactions with Yoshi (and will see during the next three or four chapters) Yori really is...er...out of her element. Interesting analysis on your part._**

**_Yep, even without Zorpox's misuse of the MMP, the ladies would be digging the Ron-man! Although not as many nor as fiercely, perhaps._**

**_Kim with Godzilla's body? Ridiculous! Kim with Godzilla's personality and temper? We've seen it! "Roooooooooooon!"_**

**_R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 923/13 . chapter 31 _

Oh hell no! If you interrupt Ron's time with Yori/Yoshi, I will be pissed!

**_Okay, I won't._**

**_But maybe I should... R~13_**

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 31 . 1013/14_

Very nice chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Thanks! We aims to please! Well...most of the time, anyways... R~13**_


	32. Betrayals

_**As I post Chapter 32, here are the polls as they stand now**_

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 2 votes**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The return of Camille Leon - 2 votes**_

_**The votes for the "Final Five":**_

**_Shego – 13 votes_**

**_Tara – 10 votes_**

**_Bonnie – 9 votes_**

**_Vivian – 9 votes_**

**_Yori – 7 votes_**

**_Electronique – 5 votes_**

**_Monique – 4 votes_**

**_Amelia – 4 votes_**

**_Joss – 4 votes_**

**_Betty – 3 votes_**

**_Yoshi – 3 votes_**

**_Shaula Lesath – 2 votes_**

_**There have been some votes for Kim but she doesn't belong in this poll. Perhaps the term "Final" Five is misleading. I was looking for who would end up in the inner circle when Ron finally goes toe-to-toe with Dark Kim.**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> Not only do I not make any money from this work of fan fiction (because the characters are not my own) but I actually lose money that I could be making by working on other stuff.

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><p><strong>Chapter 32 – Betrayals<strong>

"Porter, how's your plasma charge?" Shego asked as they thundered up the stairs from the sub-basement.

"Low. Maybe too low to handle whatever was able to do that to Bebe."

"Got any extra batteries?"

"Yes. I have backup fuel cells on the charger upstairs."

"Good. Go there and swap 'em out. Then meet us at Ron's apartment."

"What if he's not there?" Betty wanted to know.

"It's the logical place for him to go even if he is somewhere else, right now," his Chief of Security reasoned. "But the rest of us will split up and cover each floor until we find him. Betts, you take the main floor and the lobby. Round up anybody who's wandering around and keep them with you. Until we know what we're dealing with—"

"Safety in numbers. Right!"

"Sparky, you take the second floor and I'll take the third."

"What about ze basement?"

"Yeah. I'd love to start down here but my first priority is to find and protect Ro—er, Stoppable. And, if I can, any civilians after that." She suppressed a shiver. "Nobody should be down here alone. Once we've got the boss locked down and can re-arm and re-group, we'll come back down here in force and shine a flashlight into every dark corner." She paused at the door to the first floor. "We don't know exactly what we're looking for but consider this: robot, clone, or human, if you see anything that looks like Kim Possible—consider it hostile and treat with extreme prejudice!"

**RSVP**

"Take me to his living quarters," Bonnie demanded.

"What's wrong, B?"

"Nothing more than usual," the blue-eyed brunette answered. "I just gotta talk to the froob."

"Froob?" Tara was shocked. Although "New Bonnie" was more of a competitive threat as far as her own chances with Ron went, she would take her new, improved rival in a New York minute over the "Old Bonnie" that had just come back from her dorm, across campus.

"Yeah. 'Froob'. I thought you would prefer that over 'Loser'," she sneered. "So, where's his apartment? There's no directory in this No-tell Hotel. And why aren't you wearing a robe? Hello Kitty is so last century."

Tara took a step back. "B-bonnie…you know where Ron lives. You were just there this evening."

"I forgot, all right?" she answered tersely. "Just take me to him!"

Tara considered refusing. But, she reasoned, Bonnie would just stomp around on her own until she found and cornered him. Perhaps it was best if she was present to give Ron an ally in the coming confrontation. She opened her mouth to agree and then saw the fresh blood on Bonnie's knuckles. "B…you've got blood on your hand!"

The Upperton University Alternate Cheerleader brought her hand up and contemplated the drying crimson on the joints of her fingers.

"W-what happened?"

"It's nothing, Tara. That time of the month. Let's go!"

**RSVP**

Big Daddy Brotherson was a very sound sleeper. Some of that was attributable to the diabetes that kicked his blood sugar into overdrive with a large evening meal and two helpings of desert every night, not to mention a bottle of wine and his nightly dose of painkillers. And then there was the soothing whisper of his CPAP machine that blew a steady breeze of pressurized air into his lungs to counteract his sleep apnea.

_Which had suddenly, inexplicably, stopped!_

The big man gasped and choked, jerking out of a deep REM-sleep, and tore off the mask that covered his nose and mouth. Taking a deep, gasping breath of air, he felt an unaccustomed pressure across his torso and tried to sit up.

A hand grasped his face and pushed him back down against his pillow.

The bedside light flicked on and he blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

He was dead.

That was the only possible explanation: an _angel_ was straddling him just below his chest. Her long, chestnut hair framed a face of unlined perfection and her impressive bosom strained her white silk top. Her legs were bare—at least they felt bare where they hugged his ribs…

And then he saw the knife in her hands.

Maybe he _was_ dead.

Or about to be!

**RSVP**

Shego used her universal keycard to let herself into Ron's apartment. She was risking a breach of privacy by entering without knocking first but, if the monster (or monsters) that had been able to dismantle an inhumanly fast, inhumanly strong robot in such a violent manner was already inside, well, she didn't want to risk tipping it off.

At least that's what she told herself.

She slid inside and quietly searched every room and closet. The apartment was empty.

The tub was still wet in the bathroom and a couple of discarded towels had been hung up to dry. Ron had offered the use of his bathtub to Tara, hadn't he? So where had he gone?

He was going to give his little sister a bath, she suddenly remembered.

Rather than go back outside and knock on Yoshi's door, she tried the connecting door to Hana's bedroom.

The door swung open to reveal a sleeping toddler in her crib.

Shego started to close the door once more when she paused.

There was something…a strange sound…

But familiar.

Moving quietly past the little bed, she put her hand on the door on the other side of the little girl's bedroom.

Then she put her ear to the door and her eyes grew wide.

**RSVP**

There was a tap at the door and Monique dashed past Zita to answer it, reveling in her new-found mobility.

Elizabeth Director was on the other side with a wary look on her youthful features. "Everything okay in here?" she asked, looking over Monique's shoulder and assessing the room for hidden threats.

"Yeah. Fine. Why?"

"Reload your weapons if you haven't already and come with me."

**RSVP**

"Helllooo, Daddy," Amelia purred, smiling as she watched her "captor's" eyes leave her chest and focus on the knife in her hand.

"W-what do you want?" he whispered.

"Very good!" she cooed, leaning down with a smile. "That's exactly the right question to begin this conversation." She tapped his cheek with the flat side of the blade. "This very _short_ conversation…"

**RSVP**

The door whispered open and Shego just stood there, staring.

It was as if the world suddenly stopped spinning on its axis.

Time stood still.

Reality was frozen along with the beating of her cold, cold heart.

But _they_…continued to move.

In that age-old rhythm.

The beast.

With two backs.

"What…" she heard herself say. Before all words, all thought failed.

If they heard her, they gave no sign.

"There—there's a problem," she finally said. And cleared her throat. Loudly.

Ron and Yoshi ignored her.

"Danger. You…" Her hands clenched and her knuckles began to glow.

She didn't know what to make of it. Other than the obvious: nothing was more important to them right now than each other.

Certainly not _her_.

And, of course, it was _never_ going to be her…

She turned—almost as if in a trance—and walked back through the little girl's room. Stopped. Turned around and went back to close the door. Softly. So as not to disturb the sleep of innocence.

And _still_ time seemed to hold its breath.

Her heart had yet to start beating again.

She passed through his apartment—the place where she had walked in on him, lying beneath a nude Bonnie Rockwaller—just what? A couple of hours ago? Less, maybe?

Oh, _noooo.._.

It was _toooo soon_…

_Too soon_ for Sheila and Ron to be anything but friends.

Acquaintances, really.

_But not_ too soon for Yoshiko Kyoko.

Apparently _not_ too soon for Bonnie Rockwaller.

But obviously too soon and probably _always_ too soon for Sheila, too soon, forever and ever, amen.

She opened the outer door of his apartment and stepped out into the hallway.

_And wouldn't you just know it?_

She couldn't even walk away with a modicum of dignity.

Because the _other_ bitch was back.

Coming back for sloppy seconds, no doubt.

And she didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed this time!

"Hey, is he in there?" Bonnie Rockwaller demanded as she strode toward Ron Stoppable's quarters, Tara hurrying behind her, trying to keep up.

"He's busy..." Shego answered. And her voice sounded strange. Strained. "...right now."

"Too bad," the blue-eyed brunette sneered. "I need to see him _right now_."

Shego was turning to walk away. What did she care if Rockwaller disturbed his little tryst? This wasn't in her job description. Hell, right now and forever after, this wasn't her job anymore by any description.

But there was something in the little bitch's tone that _grated_. The dismissive, get-outta-my-way attitude that was not to be tolerated in close proximity to herself.

And she _really_ felt like hurting someone right now.

Shego swung back around and put her hand against the little cheerleader's chest.

Two things surprised the former villainess: Bonnie didn't feel as soft as she looked and she took another step, forcing Shego back a foot.

"Get out of my way, firefly, or you won't live to regret it!"

Shego's eyes widened and then narrowed. _Oh no she didn't!_

Tara grabbed Bonnie's arm and tried to pull her back. "C'mon, B! This isn't—"

Tara never finished her sentence as she suddenly went flying back down the hall and impacted the wall at the end without ever touching the floor!

**RSVP**

"You're not selling me to Kim Possible or anyone else!" Amelia hissed, scraping the blade along Big Daddy's five o'clock shadow—which was actually 1:00 A.M. stubble now.

"I-I'm not _selling_ you," Brotherson explained carefully. "I'm letting you go. I'm releasing you into your friend's custody."

"She's not my friend and I don't want her custody!"

Big Daddy Brotherson's eyes widened in surprise. "Wh-what do you want?"

The gorgeous brunette's lips curled in a beatific smile. "Ooooooh! Something I think you'll really, really like!"

Maybe this was a dream. Big Daddy wondered where his overstimulated subconscious would take him next. In the meantime he began to think about what he would really, really like!

Unexpectedly, his burgeoning erotic fantasy was derailed a bit by the image of a certain, fat, obnoxious Scotsman in a kilt, Brotherson's large, coarse hands clamped around the murderous golfer's throat and choking the life out him in retribution for the exploding golf balls that had bequeathed him a legacy of pain.

Big Daddy smiled anew at the seemingly dichotomy of the mad golfer appearing in his imagination while a beautiful woman straddled him and cooed suggestively about something that he might really, really like...

But it was undeniable: avenging himself against Duff Killigan was the one thing he would _really, really like_ above any other fantasy fulfillment!

**RSVP**

"Is that how you want to play this?" Shego yelled, igniting her hands. "Fine with me!" And she took an easy swipe at the young woman, expecting her to jump back.

Instead, Bonnie grabbed her arm just below her wrist and stopped it altogether. She grinned back at her plasma powered opponent and slapped her while twisting her arm down, forcing Shego to one knee.

Turning into the twist, Shego spun on the carpet for a leg sweep that seriously hurt her foot but managed to throw Bonnie off-balance, releasing her arm.

Shego jumped back up but found herself already favoring her injured arm and foot. "You brought this on yourself, Rockwaller!" she yelled, and lobbed a plasma burst at her.

Bonnie dodged it easily and kicked the door leading into Yoshi's apartment, breaking it in two.

_Well that ought to break things up and bring them running_, the green gladiatrix mused, as Bonnie wrenched up half of the broken door and threw it at her.

A couple of plasma balls reduced it to so much kindling and some of the splinters caught fire as they blew back toward Bonnie.

She ignored them. Even though a couple caught in her hair and three more landed on her gauzy blouse. The smell of burning hair and fabric was almost immediate but she paid no attention as she advanced on Shego again.

Part of her shirt caught fire, a tiny flame at first.

"Um, you have…"

"What!" Bonnie seethed, seemingly in a rage.

"It's nothing. Never mind," she said as she watched the blouse burn a little more brightly and lick against her tan skin. _Weird! _She shook her head._ And where is Ron?_ Not that she really cared: the asshole!

Bonnie suddenly lunged forward and, even though she had been holding back for fear of seriously injuring or even killing the little twit, Shego was startled into unloading a major, two-handed blast.

The green flare instantly burned away Bonnie's clothes and hair.

But she came at Shego again!

Falling back, Shego dropped to the floor, half in shock, and planted her feet in the charred cheerleader's midsection, thrusting her up and back to win some additional distance between them.

Rockwaller spun, falling against the wall of the corridor, and tore off a couple of wall light sconces. The impact caused the metal base of one of the fixtures to peel back the flesh over her cheek.

The side of her exposed jaw was metallic silver, not bone white.

"Again?" Shego growled. "Even Drakken would try something different when he didn't get the results he wanted. Somebody needs to tell Kim Possible that the humanoid robot ploy was old the first time Mastermind tried it. Now it's just ridiculous!"

"Kim Possible will never know," hissed robo-bonnie as she leapt toward Shego again.

**RSVP**

"S-she's a r-robot?" Wade Load stammered.

He was staring at a different robot, of course.

The Tweebs had spent the last half-hour bringing him up to speed. Including some demonstrations by Cece to prove that she wasn't (sadly) human after all.

Despite this, the young genius was alternately amazed and horrified as they told him about what had happened to everyone while he was comatose.

And ultimately thrilled as they told him was their planned endgame was.

"But you're telling me that I can't leave or tell my parents where I am?" he asked finally.

That, he was informed, was a definite "no."

Wade understood.

But, awake less than an hour, he was already growing bored. He needed a project…

"Hey guys; this is spankin' technology here! Is it all right if I tinker with the robot?"

"Really, Load?" Justine growled as she worked on one of the tunneling rings. "Is that what you men call it? Tinkering?"

**RSVP**

Shego was being driven inexorably back toward the end of the hallway. A cross-corridor meant she would have additional room to draw the mechanical assassin farther away from Stoppable's apartment. But she didn't want to fight a retreating action. She wanted—she _needed_—to put this threat down hard! Now!

Unfortunately, she was battered and bruised and—worse—her focus was off.

There was a terrible black hole in her chest and it seemed to be growing, sucking her down into a dark, cold, lifeless void…

And now her plasma reserves were running low.

"Better _go_ now, She-_go_!" the thing taunted as she felt the wall bump up against her back. "I've got better things to kill—though I'm happy to oblige since you're pretty much used up!" The mouth and throat mechanism had taken a little damage so it didn't sound so much like Bonnie Rockwaller anymore. "Oh, I'm sorry: I was talking about you and used 'pretty' in the same sentence. That may have been confusing."

"That's it!" the green-tinted woman shouted. "I'm outta here!" She turned and dashed down the side corridor.

The mechanoid waited a few seconds and turned back toward Ron's apartment only to be greeted by the sight of a disheveled blonde in a harem outfit with orange flames flickering around her clenched fists some thirty feet away.

"Back off, Genie," the mechanical thing snarled, "or I'll stuff you into a lamp! A really small—"

A double blast of orange plasma interrupted her threat, propelling the charred grotesquerie down the remainder of the corridor to smack against the back wall.

A second later a double blast of green plasma blew it sideways and Shego reemerged from the cross corridor where she had been laying in wait. "Damn," she said, "here I am, fresh out of marshmallows, graham crackers, and Hershey bars. What a damn shame!" She felt about her clothing and then smiled. "Oh wait! Here's…_s'more!_"

And blasted the crumpled machine with another double dose of green fire. Looking back at Vivian, she stepped back and said: "Your turn."

Another battering ram of orange plasma smashed the machine into the wall and set patches of wallpaper on fire.

Astonishingly, the metal creature started to get back up!

Vivian turned and started to run back down the hall. "Shego," she yelled over her shoulder, "run away!"

"Sorry, blondie," the broken-hearted brunette called back, "can't leave until I take out the trash…" And then she saw the blinking little metal ball that the roboticist had tossed back at the invader. "Oh…" she said as it bounced and then rolled to a stop at the feet of the rising mechanoid. She turned and ran.

There was a flash of light and a loud "_**BAMPF!**_" All of the remaining lights in the hallway went dark and the metallic monster stiffened and fell over with a crash.

**RSVP**

"I can provide a car—a plane," Big Daddy said, trying to reason with the knife-wielding woman straddling him in his bed. "I can see to it that you and your friends are taken to wherever you want to go!"

"I don't think you understand me, Big Poppa!" Amelia growled, leaning down to where her face was just inches from his, her breasts pinning his shoulders to the mattress. "You can do with them as you please. Send 'em to Possible. Send 'em to cheer camp. Hell, I don't care. But. I'm. Not. Going. With. Them."

"Where—where do you want to go?" he asked, swallowing.

"Nowhere."

"I b-beg your pardon?"

"I'm staying here."

"H-here?" Brotherson echoed, not sure he was hearing her right.

"Here," she said firmly. "In fact, I'm spending the rest of the night right here in this bed."

"With m-me?"

"That's up to you," she said, suddenly rolling off of him.

"R-really?"

"I'm sure there are other beds and bedrooms in this big ole house. If you'd rather sleep in one of those, I won't try to stop you."

Brotherson rolled on his side and looked at the beautiful girl lying on her back, next to him. "Oh, I'd rather stay here! With you!"

"That's fine," Amelia said calmly. "As long as we have an understanding."

"Right. You want to stay here."

"Oh, there's more to it than just that."

He sighed. "Of course there is."

"So, you agree to let me stay. Of my own free will. No more guards. No more shock collar."

"Yes! Yes! Of course!"

"And I'll sleep with you tonight. But only in the literal sense. Sleep. No sex."

"Oh."

"Maybe there'll be other nights. Maybe we'll sleep together in the literal sense. Maybe 'sleeping together" will end up being a euphemism."

"You fum ism?"

"Slang for having sex. Not promising anything. If you want to woo me, that's up to you. But no funny business. If I say 'no' then that means 'no.' I have more than one knife hidden around the house."

"But…why…?"

"Why would I have sex with you? Or why wouldn't I have sex with you?" she countered.

"Uhhhh…"

"I'm not really interested in you, B.D. My heart belongs to another. But I will do anything for him..." Her eyes suddenly acquired a far away look. "..._anything_..." After a moment she came back to herself and fixed his gaze with her own. "And you are the stepping stone to avenging his family." She turned on her side, facing him, and laid her hand on his cheek. "And we both want the same thing."

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "And what's that?"

"Duff Killigan."

**RSVP**

"Dammit," Vivian swore as she checked her plasma emitters. "EMP fried my weapons systems."

"EMP?" Shego echoed as they stared down at the human-shaped, smoldering pile of scrap metal and plastic.

"Electromagnetic Pulse."

Shego held up a hand. "Doy. I know what an EMP is. I guess you planned ahead."

"Grabbed it off the workbench upstairs when I changed out the fuel cells for the plasma projectors. I figured that anything that could take down one of the B-bots in that manner had to be metal and mechanized. Since this isn't the first time a robot has been sent against Ron, I was playing the odds."

"Yeah. Well. Good call."

"I guess we need to come up with a better way of screening everyone who enters the building."

"Sounds like something right up your alley," Shego muttered, still looking down.

"Well, you're the Chief of Security," Vivian said. "I'll need your input."

"No you won't. Because I'm not.

"What?"

Shego shrugged. "I resign."

Vivian stared, open mouthed, as Shego walked back, past her apartment, past a stunned and slowly stirring Tara King, and took the stairs down to the lobby.

"What do I tell the others?" she called after her. "What do I tell Ron?"

"The others don't matter," was the response that drifted up the stairs. "And Ron won't care," she whispered to herself.

Two minutes later she walked out the front door of the warehouse, turned the corner, and disappeared into the fading light of the evening.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: First we have a false "Bonnie" entering the warehouse and creating a trail of mayhem and destruction. Until the mechanoid is unmasked there is a feeling that Bonnie has betrayed the progress she's made since high school. Then there is Ron's seeming betrayal as he has kept Shego at arms length for a while, saying it's too soon for him to be "involved" yet twice, in the same afternoon, she has found him in bed with another woman. It is a seeming betrayal that cuts Shego deeply.<strong>

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 32<strong>

_Sentinel103 1/26/13 . chapter 32_

Huh you're taking Shego out of this little romp? I'm not complaining although I think you have something up your sleeve.

Oh Amelia you go girl, ain't no wrath like a woman scorned.

**_I wouldn't say that Amelia is "scorned" at this point because she's still focused on winning Ron Stoppable. I've rewritten a few sentences to make that more clear. And avenging Ron's dead parents by getting Duff Killigan is one way to break out of "the herd" and get noticed. Since Big Daddy Brotherson wants vengeance on Duff, as well, she sees him as a tool, a means to this particular end. And thanks to her lessons from Karen Comfort, she'll have him twisted around her little finger in no time. As for Shego? Yeah, Ron has been the victim of some really bad timing this particular day—as well as a couple of other things. But you knew the whole dynamic of Ron and the girls wasn't going to be peaceful for long. The set-up was a pleasant fantasy but the numbers just aren't sustainable and even a "final five" ain't gonna work for long! R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 126/13 . chapter 32_

I was worried for awhile that the story had been abandoned, deemed unfinishable, beyond the writer's abilities to conclude.

Then I read this. More the fool I.

Not nearly as much as Shego, Big Daddy, the Tweebs (letting Wade tinker with a 'droid?!), or the Bonnie-bot. But close.

What could the author possibly do next that twists these turns into something impossible to predict? One might as well ask how long is a piece of string? Its obvious when you hear the answer.

**_Unfinishable? Beyond the writer's abilities to conclude? I am hurt! Absolutely shattered that you have such little faith in me! I'll have you know that I've been a little distracted so I've just been taking it easy on y'all for awhile. If I ever start seeing some serious responses from all the lurkers out there, I'll make their eyeballs sweat! R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 126/13 . chapter 32_

Well, that really had to hurt...

And yeah, it had to be good.

But that 5 tally: Shego (got to 'splain things to her somehow. she's broken now...), Bonnie, Vivian, Yoshi, Electronique.

CB73

**_Yeah, you go 'splain things to Shego: I'm too chicken! (Extra points for guessing what she'll do next…) R~13_**

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><p><em>zafnak 821/13 . chapter 32_

Hmmm...what would Shego do next? In her current state of mind... go to a bar and get drunk?

Nah, too normal.

Shego will probably go find somebody to take her frustrations out on...

**_Oh boy! You've been taking crystal ball lessons from Pavelius... But give it another two or three chapters. R~13_**

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><p><em>Harbinger Of Kaos 821/13 . chapter 32_

Ok, lots of hurt both physical and emotional here so what comes next will be interesting.

And what about his stolen MMP? are we going to see more on that front? I mean what more could they need it for if they have the hostages already?

**_Well, actually, they don't have everyone, yet. Remember Jessica? Mr. Dr. Possible? Ron's parents? R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 822/13 . chapter 32_

"Weasel in the Henhouse Ed boy."- Rolf the son of a Shepherd

Good chapter. Who knew Justine had a dirty mind. Good thing Ron doesn't know what's going on with Amelia and the others. He wouldn't be too pleased with Amelia that she wanted to leave the others behind. When it comes to being with Ron, it's every girl for themselves, but when it comes to being rescued and getting out of there, they should stick together. I am a little disappointed that there was no golf tournament. Was looking forward to yelling "Mashed Potato" after Duff teed off.

Did you mean analogos or analogous? And no they aren't. I don't think Coop would be willing to loan MEGAS to Ron after what happened when Jamie borrowed the "head". Ursula Major? Any relation to Ursula Minor? If you need any guidance as to what a harem is, or at least the true definition, you should try Googling it. As for Anne, oops I know she's not. As for her wandering through, well you could have a bunch of famous people wander through like on a tour guide. The cartoon Histeria! used to do that sort of thing. A group of people wander through various scenes led by Miss Information, who thought that George Washington was named after the Washington Monument. As for Yori, you're welcome. As for Kimmie, hmm, I think Shego could be more like Godzilla, has the green and the nuclear part down. Maybe Kimmie is like Godzilla Jr.

Keep up the good work. PS: Ronnie will miss Shego.

**_Well, since the other girls don't know that Kim's gone "dark," it's more like they're leaving Amelia behind._**

**_Yeah, I was planning on writing the golf tournament but the girls sort of took over in mission mode and it seemed like another chapter of filler ahead so I opted to go with the flow and move things on down the road. Don't worry, exploding golf balls will be flying...eventually._**

**_I'm sorry, are you suggesting that I misspelled "analogous." Go back and check again: I'm sure that you'll see that it is correct (after I hurried back and fixed it-thanks). And I wouldn't know about Coop. Literally._**

**_Yes, actually._**

**_I did eventually get around to Googling "harem." I guess I'm rebelling against the commonly held ideas and story-versions that I've run across here. _**

**_As to whom else might wander through this story, I am trying to keep it to canon characters as much as possible though a few side trips are certainly within bounds. My biggest departure-character-wise-to date would be Captain Shaula Lesath (since the Uptopians are an entire race that never appeared in the show). But, since there is an Upperton and a Lowerton as part of the tri-cities area, it seemed in keeping to call the other aliens "Uptopians" as opposites of the "Lowardians." And I've kept her interactions and significance to a minimum so far._**

**_Ronnie's going to be a little distracted for awhile... R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 923/13 . chapter 32 _

You're dead to me. How could you do that to Shego!

**_Um, er...it wasn't me...? R~13_**

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 32 . 114/14_

Oh huh come on really I mean really shego leaving ...He was raped by a possessed nanny by his comatose ex wife ...not cool

_**Well, she doesn't know that. Real life (and fiction) is rife with people jumping to the wrong conclusions. Just look at Ron and Kim in the first chapter of RSVP Part I... R~13**_

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 32 . 1013/14_

Poor Shego she is so cute and that jerk broke her heart like that. Shego at least wasn't evil and left them to the robot Bonnie. Robot Bonnie is incredibly dangerous with something like that there is always more than one. Amelia is out of her freaking mind I can see that she will be given over to Kim Possible because she is a danger to her current captors. Hopefully someone fills Ron into what happened losing Shego will hurt incredibly hard.

Looking forward to next chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Yeah, I think everyone is starting to figure out that robots, shapeshifters, synthodrones, clones-all sorts of masquerading baddies-can turn up more than once so it's time to work on their "A Game". As for Shego? Stay tuned... R~13**_


	33. The Path

**Author's/Notes 1**_**: Okay, ya sick, twisted freaks! Stop lurkin' and drop a review or something to prove that you still care or are at least still breathing. Otherwise, I've reached a point in the story where I can segue this thing into a KIGO epic. If you've read the last two or three chapters, you know I can do it, too! Then where will you turn for your hetero-centric, Stopalicious goodness?**_

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><p><strong>AN 2:**_** Two quick contests this chapter. The first right now: I need a name for this chapter. The reader who comes up with the best title can either be a minor character in the story somewhere or can ask me anything they want and I will endeavor to answer as honestly as I can. Just no sharing spoilers with others.**_

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><p><strong>AN 3: (1/13/15):**_** Finally, I have a title for this chapter! Thanks go to Stefan cel Mare who used the cited quotation from Yoda in making his suggestion. I did change that title suggestion slightly but it keeps the spirit of his suggestion and is still underscored by the words of the Jedi Master.**_

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><p><em><strong>As I post Chapter 33, here are the polls as they stand now...<strong>_

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 2 votes**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 4 votes**_

_**The return of Camille Leon - 2 votes**_

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><p><em><strong>The votes for the "Final Five"*:<strong>_

_**Shego – 13 votes**_

_**_**Tara – 10 votes**_**_

_**Bonnie – 9 votes**_

_**Vivian – 9 votes**_

_**Yori – 7 votes**_

_**Electronique – 5 votes**_

_**Monique – 4 votes**_

_**Joss – 4 votes**_

_**Amelia – 4 votes**_

_**Betty – 3 votes**_

_**Yoshi – 3 votes**_

_**Shaula Lesath – 2 votes**_

_***And by "Final Five" I mean the core alliance that stands with Ron against the Dark Kim Empire. This does not necessarily mean a romantic and/or sexual harem—though I am interested in your thoughts on those topics, as well.**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> Wait! What? There's still a way for writers to make money from this long-cancelled series? Somebody tell me how cause I sure ain't making any!

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><p><strong>"Fear is t<strong>**he path to the Dark Side.**

**Fear leads to Anger.**

**Anger leads to Hate.**

**Hate leads to Suffering."**

** -Yoda**

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><p><strong>Chapter 33 – The Path<strong>

It wasn't unusual for Ron Stoppable to wake from pleasant dreams of his dear, late wife. Lately, they had dominated his dreams more than usual. And while that made his nights more pleasant, it just meant that the sad reality of his waking hours was a fresh wound each time he opened his eyes and started another day in the emptiness of her absence.

This morning, however, was different.

It was different because the sun was just starting to set outside the bedroom window.

It was different because his wife was still in bed with him.

And it was different because they appeared to be a strange bed, in a strange apartment, instead of their cozy little cottage on slope of Mount Yamanouchi.

He sat up in bed with a start and looked wildly about as the memories of her death...

...and the months that followed began to reappear in his sleep befuddled mind.

Yori stretched languidly and rolled against him with a contented sigh, her arm encircling his waist.

"What's going on…?" he asked slowly, carefully, as he gazed down at the unclothed body next to his.

"Husband…?" his bedmate murmured into her pillow.

"Wake up," he said, reaching over to shake her.

She rolled back over just at that moment and his hand fell on her breast.

"Mmmmm, nice," she sighed.

Yes, nice. Except it wasn't his _wife's_ breast.

Snatching his hand away as if he had touched a hot stove, he scooted back. And then leaned down to get a better look at the woman next to him.

She was Asian and, for a moment, he wanted so desperately to believe that he almost convinced himself. But he knew his wife's body in intimate detail and, although her long, black hair curtained her face, he knew that he was awake once more and that she was still gone from this world.

As she would always be.

Forever.

He started to ease toward the edge of the bed but she rolled again and caught his arm. "Husband, where are you going?"

His heart lurched painfully and almost stopped.

_It was Yori's voice!_ He was almost sure of it!

_And wasn't that what she always said to him when he'd try to leave their bed too soon?_

"Who are you?" If the question came out a little harsher than he intended it was because he was sad and tired and a little angry that he had allowed himself to be weak and unguarded and was very, very determined to not weep again.

At least until he was once more alone.

"What is wrong, Ron-kun?" she asked, finally sitting up and brushing her hair out of her face. "Do you not know your own wife? It is I: Yori. Yori Stoppable…"

It _was_ Yori's voice.

But it was the face and body of Yoshiko Kyoko.

**RSVP**

She waited until the sun was down, the grounds empty, and the gates were closed and locked before coming to see him.

Over the years the grassy mound had flattened out and she felt a little less self conscious about putting her back against the stone and sitting with her legs splayed out.

With his name chiseled into the marble, between her shoulder-blades, she could still feel a little embarrassed that—despite six feet of earth and a double-layered coffin—she was essentially sitting on his face.

"And yet," Shego said softly, with a smile, "I've come to believe that you would have liked that…" She snorted. "Still might, for all I know…wherever you are…"

She sighed then and tilted her head back to watch the moon rise.

"Oh, Danny," she moaned. "I thought I would never fall in love again. You…broke my heart...

"Dammit," she whispered. She shifted her weight against the tombstone. "I used to think that God hated me. Asshole parents. Stupid, jerky brothers. Then the comet. The whole freak thing." She shook her head. "Bad enough…bad enough…

"Then I met you. And…" She drew a shaky breath. "…I thought…_maybe_…I was finally due for some good karma. For some happiness...

"And I had that, I guess. _We_ had that…" She looked down, staring at the greening grass between her thighs. "You were happy, too, weren't you? I…" Her voice caught in her throat. "…would have made you happy. I know I _could_ have…"

She sobbed.

Once.

Twice.

And she wrestled herself back into a semblance of control.

"Just never got the chance," she continued, her voice hot and tight in her chest now. "Because I killed you instead…

"…my God-damned, _radioactive_ comet powers…

"That's when I really began to believe that God hated me."

She held her hand up before her face and lit the tip of her index finger so it burned like a small, green candle-flame.

"So, okay. If that's how He wants to play it, then: game on." She shook her head. "Oh, I stayed away from the boys after that: God wants me to be a nun, I'll buy myself a dildo and channel my sexual frustration in other ways." She pursed her lips and blew out her flickering digit. "Just don't ask me to be happy about playing the hand I've been dealt. Don't ask me to be…_nice._

"All those church-going, goody-goody types? They have hope. But you know what? Take away people's hope and the churches will empty. People are only nice because they think God will reward them if they play by the rules. Or punish them if they don't." She took a deep breath. "But, here's the thing… Take away a person's hope for reward—punish them no matter what—and people no longer have any reason to give a shit about God or about anybody else!" Her voice rose with the last sentence until she was bellowing at the dark skies.

She took another deep breath and swallowed.

"Yeah, screw you, God," she said quietly, looking back down. "I'll show you. I'll be bad…" She shook her head sadly. "And I was, Danny. Not as bad as some. But bad enough to get my face on a slew of Wanted posters." She chuckled mirthlessly. "Hey, somebody finally _wants_ me!" Her brief smile faded and she grew pensive again.

"Yeah, I really showed God. I showed Him that He hadn't broken me, yet. Set myself up reeeeeaaallll good. Y'see, Danny, I met a guy. A guy I'd actually known for several years. Wasn't paying attention really. Because guys weren't on the radar. Human relationships weren't on the radar. Because I'm not a killer. No matter what Drakken or Possible or most law enforcement agencies might think.

But this guy…turns out he's maybe more broken than me. And yet he also turns out to be the strongest person I know. God has just shit all over him but he's still…nice. He's still…kind. He's still _good_.

"And he's sweet. And funny. And brave. And he's not _afraid_ of me. And it turns out he's impervious to radiation so I can't hurt him like I did you…

"I…can't…_kill_…him…like I did…you…" She choked back another short set of sobbing. "And I thought he liked me. I thought maybe he _like_…liked me…

Her head went back against the dead boy's headstone. "But you know what? He _doesn't!_

"He doesn't love me.

"He doesn't really care about me." She held up her hand in a stopping motion. Her head bobbed a little. "To be fair—he doesn't care…the way I _want_ to be cared about." She shook her head and her eyes brimmed.

"And God…is just…looking down…and watching all of this…and laughing His ass off. He waited, you see…waited until I forgot…that… He. Hates. Me!

"Oh, Danny…I've been such a fool!" And now her careful control was finally shattered and she began to cry in earnest.

Like all storms, her storm of tears eventually passed. She swiped the moisture from her face with her sleeves and scrubbed her eyes until they were raw and dry. She rose on shaky legs and turned around to place her hands on the top of his marble marker. She leaned over and drew a series of shuddering breaths.

"God hates me," she told the stone in voice now devoid of emotion. "But it's okay now…because I think _I_ hate me, too." She straightened and took a couple of steps to see if she could walk, yet. "I don't know when I'll be back, Danny, but it doesn't really matter," she said softly. She kissed her fingers and stepped back to touch them to the cold marble. "Nothing really seems to matter." She began to make her way between the stones, heading for the small side-gate to the Go City cemetery.

"I may be back to see you soon.

"And maybe it'll be face to face…"

**RSVP**

Dr. Vivian Porter was wearing a bathrobe and trying to debrief Ron while Elizabeth Director was—well—directing "the troops."

For Ron it was a little like being back in high school. The hallway was a war zone and women were coming and going while shooting him looks that ranged from disbelief to downright disgust. The overall chaos was bad enough but having to fend off the amorous attentions of a near stranger pretending to be his dead wife had pushed everything into the realm of the surreal.

Not that a smoldering metal chassis of a humanoid death machine, as well as walls that were smeared with blood and scorch marks was much less surreal than how he remembered them just a couple of hours before!

_How did I sleep through this? _he wondered. Feeling a hand stroke his arm and catching another glimpse of Yoshiko Kyoko out of the corner of his eye, he wondered_: And how the hell did I sleep through that?_

"Ron-kun," his unwanted shadow interrupted. Again. "It would seem that things are well in hand out here. Why do you not leave the details to your friends and come back to bed—"

"Yoshi—" he began.

"Yori," she corrected him. "I have missed you so and been so lonely for you—"

"So," Electronique murmured to Betty Director, "zis ees not Ronald Stoppable's wife? She iz an imposter?"

"What she is, right now, is a big bag of crazy," Betty murmured back. "I wish I had a tranq-gun because she's too dangerous to attempt a physical confrontation…"

"So, let me get this straight," Ron was saying. "Bonnie Rockwaller left the building to go back to her dorm. Then she came back, destroyed Bebe, tried to get to me, fought you and Shego, and put Tara in the hospital?" His voice rose with every sentence.

"Well, it wasn't really Bonnie," Vivian elaborated. She gestured at the ruined mechanoid at the end of the hall. "It was disguised to look like her."

"I get that," he said sharply. Stopped and rubbed his face. "So where is the real Bonnie?"

"Found her," Joss answered from the end of the hall. With her was a furious-looking Bonnie Rockwaller. "She was bound and gagged in her dorm room."

"Where's Tara?" the teal-eyed brunette demanded. "Where did they take her? Middleton Medical Center? I need to borrow a car!"

"You can ride with me," Ron told her before a clingy Yoshi tried to intervene.

"Perhaps I can 'elp you convince heem?" a suddenly solicitous Electronique told the Asian woman as she hovered at her side. "Just hold thees for a moment…"

Caught off guard and unable to see what the blue-hued woman was talking about, Yoshi turned toward her. As soon as she broke contact with Ron's arm, Electronique touched her back. There was a flash and a crackling sound as Yoshi jerked a couple of times and her eyes rolled back in her head. Elle caught her before she hit the floor.

"She ees all right," Elle told the others. "I just disrupted 'er nervous seestem enough to induce a light unconscious state. She should sleep for a couple of hours."

"Thank you…" Ron said after a moment. "I should go see Tara…but we need to make sure everyone else is safe, first. Shego needs to debrief Bonnie and see if we can determine who's behind this latest attack. Given our history, Viv, you need to develop some sort of scanning system to alert us when any robot, android, or imposter enters the building. And—" he nodded at the unconscious woman slumped in Elle's arms, "—I'm not comfortable with her being around Hana while she's not in her right mind. We need a sitter for _her_ and my little sister."

"Oooh, I'll do it!" Britina cooed. "Before I became a pop teen sensation, I did a lot of babysitting!

Her cousin Jessica chimed in: "I'll help!"

"If zis one ees so dangerous," Electronique observed, looking down at Yoshi, "maybe I should be ze one to 'sit' on 'er for now."

Ron glanced at Betty who nodded in return. "All right, Elle," he said, after giving her another searching look. "But don't hurt her if you can help it."

Vivian cleared her throat. "All right, then. I've got a lot to do. My EMP grenade took out the robo-assassin but it also fried a bunch of other circuits. The electronics on this floor are out, along with the lights and the elevators until I can make repairs. I'll work on some sort of security system that will recognize killer robots. And do a forensic autopsy on Bebe and robo-bonnie to see if they yield any clues as to who made that thing. But I would like to get a shower and change into something more practical first."

"You rock, Viv," Ron said, stepping toward her to touch her shoulder.

She stepped back so that his hand met empty air. "I'd better get on it," she said, turning away and walking toward the stairs.

Ron looked confused and a little hurt. Then his gaze fell on Yoshi and something like recognition passed over his features. "I—uh—need to change and go check on Tara. Where's Shego?"

"About that…" Betty Director said, taking his elbow and steering him back toward his apartment.

**RSVP**

"So," Bonnie said, breaking through the fog of worries that were churning through Ron Stoppable's consciousness. "I hear you pretty much 'slept' through the whole thing…"

Between the avalanche of concerns that beset him and now Bonnie's distraction, he almost missed a turn. "That's what I'm told," he said tightly.

"You're a pretty sound sleeper, you know…"

"What?" he said after a long moment.

"You were pretty out of it today," Bonnie said, looking straight ahead. "I had to help you with your bath—the first one, I guess."

"Thanks." His responses were slow—as if he were thinking about other things.

_Or being careful about where this conversation was actually going._

"Do you—er—remember much of it?" Bonnie asked just as carefully.

"The bath?"

Bonnie swallowed nervously, "Any of it…"

"How much do you _want_ me to remember?"

Bonnie picked at her seatbelt's shoulder strap. "This is kind of embarrassing…"

"Sure it is. Even now I'm still the weird guy. The froob. I saw how some of the other girls were looking at me back there…" He cleared his throat. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Your reputation—"

"No!" Bonnie's hands slammed against the dashboard. "I'm embarrassed because I almost took advantage of you when you were defenseless and unable to say 'no' to me." She glanced back through the rear window and scowled. "And it looks like I wasn't the only one. Though I hear she pretty much took _her_ shot."

"Look, Bonnie, I don't really know what happened—"

"I think I do," she said, cutting him off. "That fight at the zoo really rang your bell. Once you started to relax in that hot water, you sort of went deep inside yourself. I could have done whatever I wanted with you. I very nearly did: that's what I'm so ashamed of. Not of…_being _with you. But of how I treated you back in high school and then trying to get a baby from you while you were uncon—"

Ron slammed on the brakes and she felt the shoulder harness cut into her chest and stomach. "You _what?_" he yelled.

Bonnie literally cringed and tried to scoot away but her seat belt held her fast. "It didn't _happen_, all right? I was weak! I knew that I couldn't have you so I wanted…something…a _part_ of you…" She drew a ragged breath. "If it hadn't have been for Shego-"

Ron bowed his head to the steering wheel as vague memories came into sharper focus. "Oh! My! God!"

**RSVP**

"It's become clear," Betty Director told them, "that we need to be better organized and better prepared." She fixed her gaze on the two young women in Monique's apartment. "Those of us who are going to be spending any time here…" she added meaningfully.

"Well I'm not leaving," the African American girl said defiantly.

"When can I move in?" Zita asked with more than a little eagerness.

"All right then," the former head of Global Justice told them. "Since you both have some experience with firearms, let's talk about armament and a new configuration of the _Possibilities Project_..."

**RSVP**

"It's not real, Bonnie," Ron moaned, his head still down on the steering wheel. "I can't explain it very well but I have this—this—"

"Mystical Monkey Power?"

He looked up. "How do you know about—"

Bonnie waved her hand. "Have you forgotten who you're dealing with? I have my ways. I probably know more secrets than the U.S. government."

Ron thought about that: how, back in Middleton High, the Queen B's power over others was often grounded in the intel she had on others. She was always trading favors and secrets until she had the dirt on practically everybody. Another thought occurred. "Hirotaka?"

She smiled primly. "I have many sources. Mostly I get tidbits. A crumb here, a snatch of conversation there. Over time I put the pieces together. Like right now. I heard the words Mystical Monkey Power once. By saying them to you, I got you to confirm that they mean something and that you've got some kind of mysterious powers or something."

He turned his head and stared out the driver's side window. "That's why you're acting this way. You and all of the others. I didn't mean to do it-"

_But I did! a red-eyed voice giggled inside his head_

"—but it…leaked…somehow. These feelings you have, they're not real."

"Let me tell you something, Stoppable." She reached over and grabbed his arm. "Turn around and look at me! Unless you had these mysterious powers back in junior high, my feelings for you did not start from some magical, hypnotic spell! I was crushing on you way back then but you never noticed anyone but Kim." She saw the sudden question in his eyes. "Never mind who. The point is, I buried my feelings. I was so jealous…and hurt…that you weren't interested in me that I tried to convince myself that you were a loser. And, after awhile, I started believing it. If your strange, mojo powers did anything to me, they revealed the truth—my _real_ feelings.

"I can't speak to how the others really feel but I could guess. You go all over the world saving people. You're unique. And you were never bad looking—better looking than a lot of the guys back in high school. Maybe not Brick or Hirotaka hot but way better than Ron Reager and the posse from D-Hall. Hell, you're sweet and nice and life is never boring around you—and you're rich! I don't know why I'm not tearing my blouse off right now!"

"Please don't…" he said weakly.

"And, even if there was something to your Monkey Mojo Powers getting the rest of us wet against our wills, I don't think you've got it anymore."

"What?"

"Penny told us about your fight at the zoo. She said you did something that looked like it didn't happen and surprised you. And then you got the hell beat out of you. I don't know anything about this blue, glowy stuff, Ron, but normal people can't throw a pair of giant aliens across the sky. So, if this mojo of yours is how you did it then, where was that guy today? I think you lost it somehow and, if that's the case, why isn't there a big exodus for the doors back at the warehouse?"

"Maybe there will be, now," he said quietly. "You didn't see the way that some of them were looking at me."

"Sure I did. They're pissed: somebody nailed you and it wasn't them. They don't understand. I understand because I know how out of it you were—and _I'm_ pissed that it wasn't me, too! Do you _not get_ it?" She reached over and flicked her finger to thump his forehead. "You've got all of these women showing an interest in you and you're not responding! You're not even making a choice—which is worse for godsakes! So, all this time, pressure has been building—and it's lucky for you that your mojo did something to our memories a while back or there would have been an explosion by now. But take my word for it, once they figure out that doing the dirty with Miss Looneytoons back there wasn't your idea, they'll be lining up again. And while some of them might be inclined to share, the feeling certainly isn't universal. So, if you think you're getting looks, now, just you wait!" She looked away. "Although what I'm trying to tell you here is…you better _not_ wait."

"Well, I don't think that's going to be a problem now, he said, turning the ignition and restarting the car. "I'm evicting everyone as soon as we get back from seeing Tara."

"_What?_ Why?"

"After today I can't risk anyone else's life."

"Yeah? Well good luck with that! Even if you could bodily throw everyone out—which I'm not sure that you actually can—would be like throwing cats out of a catnip factory—_we_—would still be in harm's way."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, aside from the whole potential hostage or revenge plot that would put any or all of us in danger no matter where we lived thanks to our former ties to you—there's the whole _Possibilities Project_ thing."

"The what?"

"You know, Dr. Director's special project to fill the void that—" She blinked. "Oh my God! You don't _know!_"

And so she told him.

About the official project.

And the unofficial pact and alliance.

And the by-the-seat-of-their-harem-pants mission to Babastan to get Duff Killigan.

She thought it would cheer him up.

But, by the time she was done telling him about what had been done for him—or at least attempted—while he was "out of the loop," he was clutching his head and moaning: "Oh this is _so_ not good!"

**RSVP**

Kim Possible took delivery personally.

"What about Amelia, Brotherson?" she growled as she looked over Linda, Maggie, Hope, Marcella, and Crystal. "And why did you dress them like Hollywood slave girls?"

"They came packaged that way, Kimberly," the big man answered smoothly. "Ask them to tell you the story on the trip home. I think you will it most entertaining."

"And Amelia?"

"Here, Kim." Amelia stepped up onto the roof of the compound where the helipad was.

Kim's former classmate wasn't wearing one of the ridiculous harem outfits that the others were obviously forced to wear. She was wearing less.

Amelia wore a plum colored bikini and a pair of stiletto heels of the same hue. A large brimmed white sun hat and a pair of designer sunglasses completed the ensemble. Her only other accessories were a pink, fizzy drink with I little paper umbrella and a fine, gold belly chain the draped from her hips and the jeweled fob that was on her navel-ring.

She walked up next to Big Daddy Brotherson, took his arm, cocked a foot up off the ground behind her, and waved her fingers at the former redhead. "As you can see," the beauty queen told Kim, "I am not under any duress and I am staying here of my own, free will."

Kim goggled a bit and then her gaze returned to the jeweled pendent nestled in Amelia's bellybutton.

_Was that Ron Stoppable's face?_

Oh, he was soooo dead, now!

**RSVP**

This was just taking too long.

Even with genetic enhancements that were crossbred with other animal DNA, an oversized "cuddlebuddy" monkey was still just a monkey.

Albeit with a lot of extra bells and whistles. Sometimes in the most literal and useless sense.

She needed human labor. With human intelligence.

She pulled out her satellite phone and punched in a number.

"Ja? Who iss shpeaking, please?"

"Demenz?"

"Ja, ja; Doktor Hall?"

"Yes, sweetie, it's me! How is everything going at your end?"

"Ach, it iss a vork in progress. Chust a minute…" There was momentary rustling sound as the phone was shifted about. "Jou frauleins shtop that horsink arrround and get to bed. Ve haff a photo-chute in der mornink und jou be needink de beauty sleepies! I am meaning it! No more smackink each udder int der boobies und heinies mit der pillows! Und jou, Ambrosia! Be putting some perjammies on!"

A little more rustle-rustle and he was back on the line. "Ach, it iss like herding der cats!"

"Sounds like the girls are keeping you busy, Professor."

"Ja. Jung women iss such a mystery to me. Und after all of dis time, I shtill do not know who did Victoria is or vat iss her secret. None of zem wear enough to haff any secrets whatzo ever."

"How did our last project work out?"

"I sink it failed, frau doctor. Ze robot has been destroyed or rendered inoperative. I do not yet know how much damage it caused or if it vas successful in reaching its target. Ve must operate as if it failed and continue mit der next phase off our planz."

"Is there any chance that Kim Possible is onto us?"

"She may be gettink zuspcious mit both of us out of ze lair zo much. Especially you."

"Well, tell her I'm still on a field trip to catalog DNA samples in the wild. Do you think you could do one teensy, weensy little favor for me before you return to Middleton?"

"Tell me und ve shall see."

"I need you to stop by my hidden lab in Osaka and fire up the human clone sequencers. Then I want you to go to the drawers of genetic samples on file and pull out the one marked 'S'…"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: I finally have one (113/15)! If you've forgotten, check the 3rd set of Author's Notes at the top. As for "The Path"? You might ask yourself who is where on the path as the story continues to unfold? Fear? Anger? Hate? On the Dark Side?**

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><p><strong>AN 4: **_**Back in Chapter 2 (of Part II), I described the alien agent as fashioning her "human" appearance based on a young woman she saw in a brain scan she had taken from Ron Stoppable. Be the first to identify the episode where Ron and the woman in his subconscious actually met and I'll answer any question you ask about the story even if the answer contains spoilers! **_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 33<strong>

Sentinel103 1/29/13 . chapter 33

don't wanna be a character, I AM a character. So the a few of the girls are slipping out, I think Betts and Bonnie are gonna make their way out of the warehouse soon enough. And Anti-Kim has some bargaining chips. And why should she even be freaking out at the belly chain fob of her former boyfriend? Kimmie Kimmie jealousy is unbecoming of you!

**_But if you ARE a "character", this would be your opportunity to be "OOC." As for future departures? Only time will tell (because I ain't). As for Kimmie…well, let's just say that she's a little confused right now. But her plans and true motivations will emerge over time. And, yes, she has big plans for world domination. And maybe some Ron domination, as well… R~13_**

_Uberscribbler 1/29/13 . chapter 33_

I have no clue how to react to any of this. None whatsoever. This feels like I'm riding atop a sea serpent, in middle of Hurricane Sandy, clinging to its back by the atoms of the tips of my fingers, while the miserable reptile is twisted on LSD and mating hormones.

I do feel a bit of empathy with Dementor. Victoria Secrets is an eternal mystery to me as well, or at least why its so popular. Neh. We humans will never be understood will we?

**_Poor Uberscribbler! Every time I read one of his (her?) reviews I don't know how to respond. I feel like I'm trying to solve a Rubik's Cube and singing the Gettysburg Address backwards to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner while going over Niagra Falls in a barrel! (Pardon me while I step outside and smoke an aspirin.) BTW, I truly believe that I could discover and explain just exactly what Victoria's secret really is—if the government would give me 1.2 billion dollars in research grants and 20 supermodels to use as guinea pigs. Alas, the real frontiers of science are typically ignored and underfunded. R~13_**

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><p><em>Batamut 130/13 . chapter 33_

love your story and I am still breathing.  
>While I might enjoy a few moments of KIGO, please do not make this a KIGO epic.<p>

**_Thanks! Good to know that you're still here. Unfortunately, I must point out that the KIGO stories on this site dominate and seem to engender the most reviews. More and more I feel that I must inevitably bow to peer pressure and strive to be popular. Then maybe Bar Refaeli will kiss me at next year's Superbowl… R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 130/13 . chapter 33_

Looks like Shego's heartbroken, pride-stung and angry...not a good combination. I hope Ron can find her and see if he can explain things to her before she 'meets Danny' again. But one of the things hinging on this is Ron getting his MMP back..Paging Justine and the gang, you're seriously mucking things up for him...!

Bonnie seems to have brought Ron up to speed from events he can't remember, for various reasons, and I wonder what he's going to do next, also.

Amelia seems to have set off a fire under Dark Kim and I wonder when that will manifest itself back in Middleton. And just how badly it will go down.

And side-assassinations are still going down. Amy and Demenz? Oy.

CB73

**_1) Piss Shego off and you're in deep trouble. But break her heart? I can't begin to imagine—oh, wait: I have to "imagine" if she's going to turn back up in this story. And I've already promised some readers that she would. 2) Neither can I—wait! I have to figure out what he's going to do, too! Damn, nobody told me that all this plotting and characterization and motivation was going to be so hard! 3) Soon, my friend, soon! Ron would be in deep doo doo if he only had to deal with Dark Kim but there are other players on the board who want to take him out, as well. Such as in the last couple of chapters… 4) Oy, indeed! R~13_**

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><p><em>Wanderer3 130/13 . chapter 33_

Great work as always. Even if I must admit it's a lil odd seeing all these chapters reposted.

Anyway, if I haveta cast my votes for the "Final Five" as you say:

-Yori: you practically brought her back from the dead already, AND she's carrying his child. She HAS to be in the top 5. No way he'd leave her that way.

-Yoshi: well they've already done the Monkey with Two-backs so why not?

-I can go with Vivian for someone a little older

-They're not on the list, but I'd also vote for Zita and/or Monique. They know Ron well and I can easily see their friendship getting spinned off into something more.

-I'd throw Betty Director in there too, just for the novelty of it and we've hardly seen her in any Fics in this capacity. And with her youth restored...can only imagine the 'experience' she might bring to the 'table' (or bed, or casting couch, or whereever tickles her fancy).

I've said enough. Gotta Blast!

P.S. that 'human' appearance is the Norweigan girl from "sitch in time" who looked over Ron's shoulder as he was talking with Kim on the Ronnunicator. I'm sure someone's already answered this question by now.

**_Thanks! The thing about re-writes is that while FanFiction-dot-net provides us the option to finish a work before posting, most of us here tend to write and post chapters as we go. It's fascinating and even helpful to get reader feedback as we go along—and, of course, that same feedback gives us the strength and encouragement to keep going when so many stories end up abandoned. But the rule still applies: good stories are not written, they are re-written. Usually more than once. Especially if they are long—really, really long…_**

**_Your votes have been added to the balloting. And, yes, you're right: it is the Norwegian girl from "A Sitch in Time" which is why she seems strangely familiar to Ron but he can't really recall her as the events of that timeline were nullified with the destruction of the Tempus Simia. And, no, you're "wrong": you ARE the first reader to answer the quiz question at the end of the previous chapter. Expect a PM soon… R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 22/13 . chapter 33_

nice chapter it was good to move away from unconiuos ron and get back into the thick of things but i feel we could do with the thinning of the herd sooner rather than later

**_Dude! The girls heard you! They apparently did not appreciate the phrase "thinning the herd" and are threatening to stampede! All over you! Jeez, girls are so touchy! R~13_**

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><p><em>Kenju 221/13 . chapter 33_

Well, things certianlly took a turn for the...wow. Yori possessing Yoshiko, Shego tettering on the edge of a serious emotional breakdown, and what I am pretty sure is foreshadowing of a Shego clone coming onto the scene. I will say one thing, Shego is very candit in talking to a loved ones grave, thats for sure. Its not unusual for people to do that, but I've never heard of anyone admitting half the stuff she did there O . o

Overall, a lot has happened and the stage has been set for a lot more.

As for suggestions for a chapter title, mine would be 'These Times Are a Changing' but I dont know if that would fit. My suggestion comes from how this chapter seems to be the turning point in the story, where things have gone beyond the point of no return, but thats just my thoughts.

Cant wait to read more dude!

**_A "Shego" clone? I thought I made it abundantly clear that cloning a human being would be unethical and evil! And you know I would never put anything in this story that was unethical and e—oh! Look over there!_**

**_Yeah, I hope everyone still remembers the Danny flashback from Part I. I'm trying to stay away from creating too many non-canonical characters but I needed a suitable backstory to explain Shego's transformation from teen hero to embittered, villainous sidekick. And a believable reason for her to gravitate to "The Buffoon's" side. Sorry to all of you angst-weary folks out there: she's got deeply rooted issues that just can't fade away too quickly or easily. Stay tuned to see where she ends up…and with whom. (I really can't wait for all of the reader screaming to begin…) R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 823/13 . chapter 33 _

"A risk is a chance you take; if it fails you can recover. A gamble is a chance taken; if it fails, recovery is impossible." - Field Marshal Rommel

Seeing as how there are a lot of reviews, I'll wait. But good chapter. Keep up the good work.

**_Ah, but next chapter is where you originally posted your "first" review... R~13_**

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><p><em>Some Dude 923/13 . chapter 33 _

I haven't read this chapter yet, but I realize that I often forget to comment on things I've read throughout a chapter, so when you mentioned you wanted to hear our thoughts on a harem, get this out of the way before I forget.

I'm a big harem fan... love them. So seeing you set this story up as a potential harem,( especially with the girls you chose and the number of them) made me excited. Furthermore you're style of writing made me have hope that you would find a way to make the harem believable and actually work out. If you need any suggestions or ideas on how to make it work( should you choose to go through with it), please let me know, I'd be happy to give you some.

All in all, those are my thoughts on a harem for this story.

**_Hmmmm...I guess it depends on what you would consider as "working out." But I'm always open to ideas and suggestions. Much to everyone's occasional regrets. R~13_**

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 33 . 1015/14_

Cannot believe this but I'm agreeing with Bonnie but Ron needs to settle this quick and make a decision. Also making sure his housemates find new places of residence. Ron has woken up to what looks like when you leave subordinates with cluster weapons because no one has still told him what is happened to Shego. She was just the cutest. Kim seemed very stable, now has to buy them clothes the price of revenge always increases. I hope Tara is okay.

Looking forward to next chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**I don't think anyone is moving out too soon. In fact, there will be some more "residents" soon.**_

_**But things are changing! R13**_


	34. Who Are You?

**Author's/Notes**_**: Okay, I still don't have a name or title for the last chapter…**_

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><p><em><strong>As I post Chapter 34, here are the polls as they stand now<strong>_

_**Regarding the Specific Request Tote Board:**_

_**The return of Mama Lipsky/Mastermind – 2 votes**_

_**Ron being "attacked by crazed supermodels" per his "wish" in the episode "Exchange." – 3 votes**_

**_The return of Camille Leon - 2 votes_**

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><p><em><strong>The votes for the "Final Five":<strong>_

**_Shego – 14 votes_**

**_Bonnie – 10 votes_**

**_Tara – 11 votes_**

**_Vivian – 10 votes_**

**_Yori – 7 votes_**

**_Electronique – 6 votes_**

**_Amelia – 5 votes_**

**_**_Betty – 5 votes_**_**

**_Monique – 4 votes_**

**_Joss – 4 votes_**

**_Yoshi – 3 votes_**

**_Shaula Lesath – 2 votes_**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong>

There once was a show called Kim Possible

Whose characters seemed quite implausible

Though they "turned off the lights"

Disney still owns the rights

So getting paid for this story's impossible.

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><p><strong>Chapter 34 – Who are you? Who, who? Who, who?<strong>

"I'm sorry, Ronald," Dr. Wanda Wong told him over the phone, "but Dr. Drakken's truth ray was stolen from our labs nearly a fortnight ago. Perhaps if you told me what you needed it for, I could come up with another way to assist you."

Ron Stoppable closed his eyes and slumped in his chair. "It—it really doesn't matter. It was a long shot at best."

"Ronald," she said softly. "I'd really like to help. "I haven't forgotten how you and Kimberly rescued me back before Drakken and Shego went straight. With Kimberly missing and her father and brothers—well—let's just say it would please me very much if I could be of any assistance."

He sighed and looked up at Yoshiko Kyoko through the one-way observation glass in her padded cell. She was hunched over in her straight-jacket, tears streaking her haunted face.

"How much do you know about mental illness, Doc?"

"Well…that's really not my field of expertise…"

"Then how about reincarnation?" he asked absently.

"Which religion?"

"Which—well, Buddhist, of course. What other religion believes in reincarnation?"

"Again, not an expert here. But the concepts of reincarnation—or the transmigration of the soul—isn't confined to Buddhism. And even the Buddhists have different beliefs."

Ron blinked. "They do?"

"Well, for example, most non-Buddhists think reincarnation is all about what kind of animal you'll become in your next life or incarnation. Or, maybe, becoming a ghost—at least for awhile. This is actually what is termed 'transmigration,' but it is not the accepted consensus in Japanese Buddhism."

"So," Ron queried, "Japanese Buddhism is different than the Indian kind?"

"Again, not an expert," Dr, Wong qualified, "but I can tell you their concepts of rebirth are somewhat different."

"Like?"

"Well, take the Japanese Buddhists. Culturally they believe in the awareness of death from the time of birth. This is because each person is caught in the cycle of life and death and each person can become free of both of these when attaining illumination."

"I've, uh, heard that the ninjas meditate on this daily."

"Really? Well, I wouldn't know as I've never met any…_ninjas_." He could almost see her putting finger quotes around the word "ninjas."

"Heh," he said weakly, "neither have I."

"Well, anyway, Buddhists believe that death gives people a chance to change their karma—if they've properly prepared, that is. They prepare themselves all throughout their lives for that moment of death when it is possible to let go of the many habits."

"And are reincarnated?"

They don't use the word reincarnation. They say 'rebirth'."

"What's the dif, Dr. Wong?"

"Please, Ronald; call me Wanda. Rebirth is simply a _new_ birth…where some positive traits are carried over to the new life and body. This is different than 'reincarnation' which literally means 'the shape' or 'avatar' of the same soul simply changes form. Buddhist rebirth is not transmigration—the idea that the soul will pass on to another body in intact form. Instead, rebirth means that the old consciousness fades away and a new consciousness forms."

"So…you're saying…" Ron said slowly, "…that the soul ceases to exist?"

"Not exactly. Japanese Buddhists believe that the consciousness _dissolves_ at the moment of death. This is called the 'dissolution of the _skandhas_' or 'aggregates.' The _skandhas_ start to melt away and become re-connected with all things on earth," she explained. "When alive, the _skandhas_ are already connected in a limited way and will only reach the optimum connection or communion at death."

"Um, I was…reading this…story," Ron told the Chairman of the Board of the Middleton Space Center, "where…this woman…dies…and she takes over the…um…body…of this other woman who's still alive…"

"You're describing a story about possession, not reincarnation."

"Uh…yeah. I guess you're right."

"Not that it really matters. Zen Buddhism believes that those who are highly skilled in meditation can literally influence the circumstance and the result of the rebirth of the soul. But in each instance, there is no 'permanent' soul that will continue to another life, intact and fully conscious of its past. They believe that each person is whom it is _now_ because of the memories, habits, thoughts, life, and the body that it is in _now_. And the family, history, memories, or friends that are known in the _present_ life will be no more in the _next_ life and rebirth. We are the same soul but we restart anew each time."

"I see," said Ron, staring sadly at the miserable woman on the other side of the glass. "So the dead really don't come back."

"What?" Dr Wong was confused and a little flustered. "Ronald, what is this really about?"

"It's nothing, Ms. Dr. W. Just trying to get to the truth of something. But if a woman tried to tell you that she had died and hitched a ride in another woman's body, you wouldn't need a truth ray to know that she was lying, would you?"

"Well, Ronald, aside from the scientific impossibility of such a scenario, a Japanese Buddhist would tell you that once you stopped breathing, you would cease to have any memories or ties to anyone that you once knew."

"Yeah. Okay. Got it." A tear slid down a freckled cheek as he ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

**RSVP**

On a distant tropical island, the body of Yori Stoppable took a deep, ragged breath and began to moan.

**RSVP**

Bonnie finished leading the rest of the girls in their morning workout and then hurried to catch Dr. Porter before she could exit the newly finished gymnasium and head back upstairs.

"Wait up, Viv," she said, catching the blonde roboticist's arm. "I understand that you've got some martial arts training and I thought that we could mix it up a little. I mean, Betty's been showing us some of her hand-to-hand training from Global Justice. And Joss and Anne have taught us some of Kim's signature moves. But, given the sorts of things that seem to be zeroing in on Ron and, well, the people around him—_us_—I figure the more moves we've got, the better…"

Vivian sighed. "Yeah. Give me a little more time on finishing up the building's security systems and I'll be glad to rotate in."

Bonnie nodded. She knew that the woman had been working night and day for the past three weeks to prevent any future incursions like the one that had put Tara in a wheel chair and destroyed the Bebe robot. Now that Shego was gone, everyone—especially Ron—was even more vulnerable. It had brought them all closer together and they had set aside any blatant rivalries to train themselves and each other into a more cohesive fighting unit. Dr. Director's _Possibilities Project_ was finally coming together on a scale she could have scarcely imagined a couple of months ago.

"Thanks, Blondie."

"No big, Rottweiler."

Well, they might have set aside _some_ of their bigger differences but that didn't mean they had stopped being competitive on every level.

Both walked away, smiling.

Bonnie made her way over to the steam room after consulting the clock. There was a delivery coming in at eleven so she had plenty of time. She'd dropped all but a couple of this semester's classes to concentrate on being Ron's business manager and now was serving as p.t. (personal trainer) and quasi den mother to the building's occupants. She suspected that Ron's latest job offer was really an excuse to give her some time to recover from the "Doppelganger Incident" and look after Tara while she recovered from being thrown into a wall, but she wasn't inclined to look a gift horse in the mouth.

As distracted and miserable as Ron had been lately, he still seemed to be looking after the rest of them.

She doffed her sweats in the locker room, did a quick rinse in the shower, and grabbed a towel on her way into the beautifully tiled "sweat box."

Actually, some of the tiles were more than merely decorative. At Ron's insistence, the contractors had installed a network of small pipes carrying cool water beneath the tiles where the room's occupants sat, reclined, or rested their feet. Shrugging off the ensuing complements that followed the room's inauguration, he had allowed that "it only made sense."

And proving that very point, Jessica, Britina, Heather, and the two Possible women were already inside, sitting or reclining in various states of undress.

"Aargh! Hide!" Heather mock-warned the others. "It's the Queen of Strains, Sprains, and Pains! Look out! She'll probably make us do twenty more push-ups!"

Jessica and Possibles smirked: the blonde was a former cheerleader and the redheads were used to keeping themselves in fighting trim. The pop star and the actress had spent considerably less time in a gym before Bonnie and the others decided that it was time to prepare for mission-level threats.

Bonnie snorted contemptuously. "Push-ups? I don't think so…unless they're one-armed push ups. You might want to practice before tomorrow morning's workout!"

This time the rest of the room groaned along.

"Where are Monique and Zita?" Britina asked.

"I think they asked Betty to meet with them on the gun range," Bonnie answered as she unwrapped her towel and spread it out on the second tier in the gallery. I expect we'll be starting some sort of firearms training in the next couple of days."

"Will it be optional?" Anne asked, feeling a distinct unease at moving their training into the realm of lethal force. Even unconsciously her Hippocratic Oath was exerting some real influence.

"Everything's optional," Betty answered as she entered the room with her towel slung over her naked shoulder. "No one has to stay here. No one's required to put themselves in harm's way." She folded her towel into a more comfortable cushion and sat on it near the door. "But, aside from training to protect ourselves and each other, no one should become a liability, either."

"In other words," Joss interpreted, "no one should endanger anyone else by requiring a rescue just because they didn't take their own self-defense seriously."

Everyone nodded at that and the room was silent for a few minutes save for the hiss of steam fogging the air.

"Erm, I kind of need to ask a favor…" Bonnie literally squirmed on her sodden towel. "I know that we've called a truce…"

"Truce?" Heather asked archly.

"We've all agreed that Ron doesn't need any complication from the rest of us, right now," Anne qualified. "The whole Kyoko-Shego-Tara-Bonnie sitch has really upset him."

"Yeah," Britina continued. "Those of us who really care about him know that we need to give him some space until his emotions are a little less raw."

"Besides," Betty added, "I really don't think that anyone could approach him right now and expect any kind of intimacy. Any kind of a come-on or vibe is just going to push him away that much more. "That's why we've all agreed to keep things as…professional as possible for now."

"And it's easier for everyone to take a step back if everyone _else_ takes a step back," sighed Bonnie. "But here's the thing—and I hope you don't think that I'm trying to do an end run, here…"

"Oh, no, Bon Bon," Jessica said with more than a little sarcasm. "We know you'd never take advantage of a situation to get closer with Ronnie."

The others practically rolled their eyes as they recalled how the former Queen B had managed to get naked with object of their discussion twice in one day.

"Sorry…" She sounded sincere—mostly likely because she did feel a little guilt over Ron's subsequent freak out. "But here's the thing. I know that robot-thingie was disguised to look and sound like me…"

"And _act_ like you," Jessica added.

"The _old_ me," Bonnie huffed.

"Not _that_ old," her former cheermate argued.

"All right," Betty interrupted, "what do you want, Bonnie?"

"I can tell you what she wants," Heather said under her breath. Even though the redheaded starlet understood that it was the Bonnie Bot that had cold-cocked her, she seemed to be a little more short-tempered with the real Bonnie Rockwaller since the incident.

Ignoring the bait, Bonnie continued: "Ever since that night, I feel like Ron has been keeping his distance from me."

"Honey, he's been keeping his distance from all of us," Anne said.

"Yeah, but it feels like he avoids me a little more than the rest of you, the teal-eyed brunette protested.

"Yessss," Joss said with a grin and a fist pump; "there _is_ a God and He _does_ answer prayer!"

"Oh, ha ha. But here's the thing that I want to know," Bonnie continued. "Is it an unconscious thing—aversion—because of the robot looking like me? Or is it…er…because…"

"You were such a skank that evening?" Heather offered.

Bonnie hung her head. "Well…yeah. I'd like to know if I…burned my bridges. And how bad…"

"So you can work on getting back together with him?" Britina asked.

"Look, I know we've all agreed to back off." She held up her hands. "And, believe it or not, I'm more committed to giving Ron his space than the rest of you because I figure I did mess with his head a little—even though I didn't mean to!"

Heather wasn't the only one who looked less than convinced.

"But it's really eating at me," Bonnie said with an uneven voice. "I need to know how bad it really is between us."

"And you're asking us to help you with this?" Joss asked incredulously.

"Well, I figure that it's better if someone else sounds him out. He'll probably be more honest than if he's talking to me. And I figure the rest of you will freak out anyway if I try to have a private conversation with him."

"Good point," Betty allowed. "Although I think Ron is learning to be a little more honest with everyone, he's still pretty guarded. And I don't think you'll win yourself any points with the rest of us if you go trying to have any private conversations with Mr. Stoppable about the nature of your relationship."

"If it comes up in any of our conversations with him," Anne said, "we'll be sure to get back to you."

But she didn't sound that sure.

**RSVP**

Dede scanned the hallway of the old tenement building and then, satisfied that she was alone and unobserved, pressed her finger against the door lock.

A swarm of nanites swarmed into the locking mechanism from her fingertip and aligned the internal tumblers so that the door could now be opened with the gentlest of pressures.

The B-bot already knew that the apartment was empty—at least of human or animal life. Her thermal imaging scans had verified that.

Still, she felt an unfamiliar…sensation? While human texts were maddeningly vague, she believed that the sensation was linked to her self-preservation protocols and so the closest analog would seem to be the human equivalent of "apprehension".

Or even _fear_.

Something or someone had sent a machine into the warehouse, Ron Stoppable's home—_her_ home for that matter—and it had destroyed (murdered) her sister-bot, Bebe! Bebe's destruction had been brutal and awful! The idea of being permanently shut down and with no hope of a future reboot was disturbing enough. The idea of being torn apart in the process, was just so much worse for some imponderable reason. During her brief existence since the Japanese nuclear plant, Dede had taken some comfort in the idea that her fabricated body was more resilient than a human one and that her "life" expectancy was many times that of a flesh and blood construct.

But Bebe's "death" had brought her face to face with her own mortality and now she realized that Ron Stoppable's foes were so formidable as to be a threat to _her_ very existence, as well.

Which was why she had approached each new location on her current mission with a "sense" of trepidation and a greater degree of caution than she might have employed in the past.

Another robot-killing android just might be around the next corner or behind the next door.

She jerked the door open and prepared to battle for her "life."

_There was nothing behind this door._

The apartment was empty although there were signs of recent occupancy. A number of old addresses had been checked, so far, including three different lairs but none yielded any signs of Shego's whereabouts within the last three weeks.

This apartment was different.

Someone had cleared the closet, the medicine cabinet, and the dresser drawers recently. Evidence suggested within the last twenty-four to thirty-six hours. But microscopic detritus and organic matter at the bottom of the kitchenette disposal indicated a multi-day/week occupancy before that.

And then there were all of the liquor bottles in the trash.

The trail was a little warmer now but still left the one question that Ron Stoppable would ask when she returned from her mission:

_Where had Shego gone? _

**RSVP**

Four young women in colorful bikinis glistened under the midday sun next to a private pool on an estate that had once belonged to a Columbian drug lord.

The last time they had done this together, they had all been high school cheerleaders.

Now, barely a year later, three were college co-eds and the fourth was a megalomaniac bent on ruling the world. The alternates were grateful to Kim for "rescuing" them from Big Daddy Brotherson but they didn't really know her like Crystal, Marcella, and Hope so they had declined to join her poolside.

"But _why_ do you want to take over the world?" Marcella whined as Hope rubbed more sun lotion onto her back.

"Yeah," Crystal joined in, coating her tanned thighs with coconut oil, "you used to fight guys who tried to take over the world! Now you want to be the kind of person you used to fight?"

"It's not the same thing," Kim Possible explained, her big, floppy sunhat hiding the blinking chip embedded in her forehead. "First of all, I'm not taking over the world for myself. I'm taking over the world for everybody else…"

**RSVP**

"It's not your fault, Ron," Tara told him as they exited the hospital.

Brick Flagg was pushing her wheelchair while Big Mike shadowed Ron Stoppable as his acting bodyguard for this excursion.

"But she's so miserable," Ron said softly as they made their way across the large parking lot. "I don't think she's really dangerous now. To herself or anyone else…"

"Unless they try to separate her from you," Tara reminded him gently. "You're not a mental health professional. She needs to be here where she can be given the proper therapies and medications. She might not get better if she was back at the warehouse."

"She might not get better here, either. At least she wasn't miserable back in her apartment."

Tara shook her head. "She _was_ miserable, Ron. Miserable that you didn't believe that she was your dead wife. And then there was the question of Hana…"

"She was never a danger to Hana!" he said more forcefully. "Yoshi doted—_dotes_ on my baby sister! And _Yori_ loved my little ninja-tot! So, whichever she thinks she is, she would never do anything to hurt her."

"Maybe. But then there's Hana, herself. Do you think it's healthy for her to be around someone who's so confused about who they are?"

"I know. It's just that—what if she really is who she says she is? What if my Yori is really back and in the body of Kyoko Yoshiko and I've abandoned her there? I'm not just sentencing _her_ to being alone, I'm sentencing _me_, too!"

Tara reached over and took his arm in her gentle grasp. "She really is convincing, isn't she?"

Ron Stoppable sighed and finally loosed a shaky laugh. "Yeah. I'm really a sucker for any pretty girl with a pretty good line." They drew near to the hoverpod, parked at the end of the parking lot and his face fell again. The craft was Shego's, left behind when she had departed the warehouse and disappeared _that_ night.

"Stop it."

He glanced over at the girl in the wheelchair. "What?"

"Now you're thinking about _her_. You've got to stop taking the blame for everybody else!"

"I really hurt her, Tare."

"Wow! Mister Ego," she said as Big Mike unlocked the side hatch and lowered the ramp and Ron lifted her out of her chair. Circling his neck with her arms she murmured against his cheek: "If you want to look at it that way, you hurt all of our feelings when you don't return our affections."

He carried her up the ramp and into the vehicle while Brick folded and stored the wheelchair and Big Mike began the preflight checklist. "Yeah, right!" He chuckled as he secured her lap belt and shoulder harness. "I suppose you water your pillow with tears every night, dreaming of me, too."

She smiled up at him. "I do."

He grinned back. "Uh huh." He sat next to her and began strapping himself in.

"You don't believe me," she said cheerily.

"Yeah, right!" He laughed a little.

"Dude," Brick told him as he made his way to one of the jump seats, "she's serious. Girl's got the serious hots for you."

Ron squirmed a little bit. "All right, guys, enough's enough. I appreciate the effort to cheer me up but—"

"—he doesn't believe me," Tara finished for him. Her smile grew a little brighter. Or maybe a little more forced.

"Or maybe he doesn't want to believe me."

Ron squirmed a little more. "What's the difference?" He craned his neck toward the front. "Can we take off, now? I really would like to get back."

"The difference," Tara told him as the turbines began to whine, "is a lot bigger than just one word." She leaned toward him and captured his brown eyes with her blue. "If you believed that I wanted you—even just a little bit—would you _want_ to?"

"What?" he asked, as the hoverpod lifted up off the asphalt and rose above the treetops. "Would I _want_ you to want me?"

She looked back down at her lap and nodded shyly.

"Oh, Tara," he said softly after a little pause, "you are the nicest, kindest, most beautiful—"

"But you like the _bad_ girls," she countered with a smile.

"I like you," he shot back. "And I'll show you how much when I tuck you in, tonight."

She reached over and rubbed his forearm with her hand. "Thank you, Ronnie. And some day I might just take you up on that." She shook her head. "But not right now. You'd do it out of pity, not love. At least not the kind of love a young woman hopes will bring her soul mate to her bed…"

_Soul mate?_ Ron swallowed nervously.

"You're still feeling all this misplaced guilt over my injury. Throw in a little pity…" She shook her head again. "Not until I can walk again."

"Tara—"

"No! The doctors said they don't know for sure. My spinal cord was bruised, not severed. Once the swelling goes down…" She patted his hand. It's too early for pity. If you ever do come to my bed—" she almost said 'again', "—it won't be because of pity!"

She giggled a little. "Though I still might let you tuck me in, tonight."

Up front, Brick and Mike were unable to hear most of the conversation in back but they still grinned at each other and the former Middleton High quarterback whispered: "Lucky bastard!"

**RSVP**

"So, you see," Kim finished. "Right now a number of corrupt governments, terror organizations, and greedy financial conglomerates control the world's resources and oppress the poor and powerless. By taking over the world, I'll make the planet a better place for everyone. I'll eliminate hunger and poverty and suffering…"

The other girls exchanged a glance.

In fact, they exchanged a whole lot of glances.

As well as long meaningful looks.

"And, um, what do you think that all of the different countries are going to do when you start your campaign?" Hope asked timidly.

"Oh, I've already started. And they're not going to do a thing," Kim answered gaily, her pale skin left bare by the black and red bikini freckling under the tropical sun. "At least not during Phase One."

"What's Phase One?" Crystal asked.

Kim grinned—_a bit fanatically_, her friends thought. "Taking out the competition."

**RSVP**

Lying on his back in the _Schwarzschild_ bridge frame, he dropped his micro-spanner and barely avoided putting his own eye out.

"Are you all right?" Liz asked him as she tossed the tool aside and turned his face to hers, checking his purpling eyelid.

She had been retrieved from the Stoppable house just twelve days before—or months earlier-depending on which end of the frame you were standing at with the power switched on.

There were two different temporal points, co-existing, while the Einstein-Rosen bridge was operational.

At this end, the "present." At least for Wade, Justine, the Tweebs and the Rentons as they labored to keep the equipment that created the artificial wormhole semi-operational.

At the other end, the now non-existent Stoppable house was months in the past, trembling on the verge of fiery extinction.

For Liz, she had been looking at Jessica in the Stoppable living room just seconds before the explosion rolled through the structure, engulfing everything in flames. Unseen hands had grabbed her from behind and pulled her through, into the Possible basement, months later, or a moment later, leaving Jessica behind when the time-tunnel winked back out of existence!

But Jessica hadn't perished because she had fallen though the "same" tunnel a split-second later...although she had arrived in the basement days earlier because that was the _first_ time that the equipment had powered up. Jessica did not receive the same welcoming committee that night because Wade was still heavily drugged and everyone else was outside, around back, studying the circuit breakers for the house.

And, once again, the act of retrieving another one of the occupants had caused a systems-wide failure that took days to repair and recalibrate.

So, Liz was lying on her back next to Wade in rather close quarters trying to help him by handing the tools he needed while he worked.

"Explain it to me, again," Liz demanded. The redheaded, former Mad Dog cheerleader crawled into the _Schwarzschild_ bridge frame that looked like so much like the stainless steel ribcage of a giant sepent. Sitting next to Wade, she nudged him, causing him to slip a little as he made minor adjustments in the tunable arrays. "Explain the part about how I'm like this cat with nine lives."

The young genius sighed but allowed himself to take another break. He had been ambulatory for over a week now but he still tired quickly so maybe this was a good time to rest his arms and shoulders. And his back. He laid back down on the hard floor but found that the older girl had already slid a cushion under his head so that he was relatively comfortable.

"Okay," he said. "Let's review..."

"This thingie you're working on is like a time tunnel," Liz interrupted. "You sent it back in time and that robot came through and grabbed me and brought me back to life! You're a genius!"

He held up a hand. "First of all, it's an Einstein-Rosen bridge, not a 'time tunnel.' A 'wormhole' if you want to get all slang-y. And space/time dilation effects are kind of hard to explain without getting into quantum mechanics and Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity..."

"Yeah, yeah, it's like Star Trek," Liz interrupted again. "Travel faster than light, folding space and time, yadda, yadda, yadda. But the bringing me back from the dead trick? Now that's beyond impressive!"

Wade shook his head. "But you weren't really dead, yet. You were in a state of quantum flux..."

"Like in _Back to the Future_?"

Wade sighed on the inside but he was a little impressed that a cheerleader was actually familiar with sci-fi movies and tv shows. "I think you're thinking of the 'flux capacitor'. Maybe I should say you were in a state of quantum paradox, instead."

"And that's where the cat comes in. right?" she asked.

Wade sighed. "Maybe you should ask Justine to explain this to you."

Liz shook her head. "She's too distracted. Besides, you're cuter."

He shot the redhead a skeptical look but folded his hands on his now-smaller stomach and launched into another explanation of quantum indeterminacy.

"Back in 1935, Erwin Schrödinger tried to explain the apparent conflict between what quantum theory tells us is true about the nature and behavior of matter on the microscopic level and what we observe to be true about the nature and behavior of matter on the macroscopic level - everything visible to the unaided human eye. He asked us to imagine an experiment where a living cat is placed into a steel chamber, along with a device containing a vial of hydrocyanic acid. There is, in the chamber, a very small amount of hydrocyanic acid, a radioactive substance. If even a single atom of the substance decays during the test period, a relay mechanism will trip a hammer, which will, in turn, break the vial and kill the cat."

"I don't like that experiment!" Liz grumbled.

"Well, it's theoretical. No actual cats are harmed in a theoretical experiment," Wade explained in an attempt to sooth the redhead.

"Hmpff. Okay. Continue..."

The young genius nodded. "Well, the idea is, an observer cannot know whether or not an atom of the substance has decayed, and consequently, cannot know whether the vial has been broken, the hydrocyanic acid released, and the cat killed. Since we cannot know, according to quantum law...and here's the important part...the cat is both dead and alive, in what is called a superposition of states."

"So," Liz jumped in, "it's like me. When the Stoppable house blew up, you hadn't created this wormhole thingie, yet, so we were kind of like that cat. Maybe we were dead...or maybe not."

"Right," Wade continued. According to Schrödinger, it is only when we break open the box and learn the condition of the cat that the superposition is lost, and the cat becomes one or the other, either dead or alive. As long as it is sealed in the box and unobservable, it remains in a state called _quantum indeterminacy. _We call this _the observer's paradox. _The observation or measurement itself affects an outcome, so that the outcome as such does not exist unless the measurement is made.

"And that's why," Liz decided, "that Jessica and I weren't really dead-"

"Or really alive," Wade added.

"-because no one found our bodies after the explosion. We weren't observed to be actually dead," she concluded.

Wade nodded. "You were all assumed to be dead. After all, your bodies could have burned up completely in the resulting fire. But assumption is not the same as quantifiable evidence. And the bottom line of quantum indeterminacy is: there is no single outcome unless it is observed.

"So..." she drawled, after a moment. "You can't exactly use your wormhole thingie to go back in time and stop somebody else from being killed, right?"

Wade nodded again. "This was a very special situation. No bodies no quantifiable evidence that you were actually dead. If we were to go back and intervene in a situation where someone actually did die. Left a corpse. Got embalmed. Had a funeral. Was buried. All with witnesses. Well, that would create a temporal or super quantum paradox."

"And that would be bad?"

"It would create an alternate timeline. A parallel universe would open up in that instant and the Einstein Rosen-bridge could create a tear in the fabric of both realities." He shuddered. "Once we get the Stoppables and Kim's dad, we're taking this thing apart, burning all of our notes and blueprints, and taking an oath that this whole thing never happened. This is the closest I've ever come to playing God and I never want to come here, again. And God help us all if anyone else were ever to get their hands on this technology..."

They were quiet for a moment and then Liz rolled over and kissed him on the lips.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For being God's tech guy and getting us out before we all became dead cats."

"Well," he said a little hoarsely, "let's hold off on any celebrating until I get everyone else out. Now, where's that microspanner?"

Unfortunately, Liz had been careless with the micro-spanner, tossing it aside after Wade had dropped it in his eye. Neither had noticed as it went skittering between the metal "ribs" of the bridge apparatus, sliding to a stop against an open wiring panel. Their conversation had masked the soft snapping sound and neither noticed a brief whiff of ozone as the Tweebs soldering guns were masking the smell of the static discharge.

The bright lights spaced around the work area basically washed out the pale blue glowy thing trapped in the magnetic bottle.

So nobody noticed when it abruptly faded away.

**RSVP**

Nobody noticed when Ron's eyes turned red in the back of the hoverpod, either. Or the temporary blue flush that briefly illuminated his skin.

Tara was tired. And Big Mike and Brick Flagg were distracted by the scene in front of Ron's warehouse down below.

It looked like a photo shoot.

Of scantily clad supermodels.

**RSVP**

"It's not that I run the criminal organizations out of business," Kim explained. "I just take out the various crime bosses and super-villains. And then I take over their enterprises and run them, myself."

The sounds of fighting inside the house drifted out to them but Kim seemed totally disinterested.

"By the time I'm done, I'll be the rest of the world's hero while eliminating all competition and complication, AND bankroll my increasing costs for building the ultimate mercenary army. THEN, I—"

She stopped talking as an unconscious Adrena Lynn came sliding out of the mansion, across the patio, and into the pool.

Everyone looked back at the now open, sliding glass door from which the unconscious Extreme Sports star emerged.

Another famous face and figure stood there, now, leaning up against the frame.

"Hello, Princess," Shego said, tossing a plasma fireball up and down in her left hand, "miss me?"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE:<strong> "**Who are you? Who, who? Who, who?" are part of the lyrics of the song "**Who are you?" by The Who (redundant, eh?). And this chapter sort of asks the question of Yoshi, Kim, and Ron...at the very least.****

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 34<strong>

_Chris Beaver101 2/17/13 . chapter 34_

I VOTE FOR YORI

**_Just one vote, man? You're allowed 5, you know. I've got you down for Yori, now, but you can still throw four more names into the hat, sir. R~13_**

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><p>Uberscribbler 217/13 . chapter 34

Oh, come on! You can't end it there!

Well, you just did end it there, didn't you. The author has the most exquisite sense of dramatic timing.

At least KP's plans make marginally more sense than the late Mother Drakken's did. I'm not even sure the latter had any plans as such. At least KP is keeping to her essential purpose and efficiently taking out the opposition. Whether that's a good idea or not is open question.

Nevertheless, I maintain that KP and Ron are both going to feel supremely silly once that malfunctioning chip and memory block are out of the way. Yori isn't likely to be all that happy about the stitch either.

And Han? One shudders at the prospect. Finding a yeti in the frozen foods section of a grocery store, eating through the ice creme, strikes as utterly prosaic in contrast.

Until the next installment.

**_Yep! I ended it there! No, wait: there's another chapter just ahead so—oh, I see. You meant I couldn't (shouldn't) end the _****_chapter_****_ there. I know, a lot of people hate cliffhangers. I actually wanted to end it sooner (I was really, really tired when I (first) posted this and need to go back and line-edit last chapter and post again) but I thought you all deserved a little implied action after a rather talky, non-action stretch. Life has thrown me a lot of distractions lately and it's really messed with the forward momentum of the story for awhile. I find I have to choose between posting the occasional, meandering chapter every couple of weeks or wait several months until the other crap in my life goes away for awhile. I figure its better to not let the trail grow too cold—for me as well as for most of my readers (all four of them). And, yes, a whole lot of awkweirdness awaits Ron and Kim and maybe a few others down the road! Especially when certain byproducts are revealed… R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 217/13 . chapter 34_

That chip really twisted reality and sane perceptions if Kim thinks she is and will be no different than those she used to fight. But thank Mama Lipsky for that, I guess. Interesting interruption by Shego there, I hope she's not going kamikaze here, because her legacy is two dead women who had feelings for Ron and with his guilt, and memory loss, when that comes together he just might implode.

But Ron's really one for Dr. Phil, with or without the MMP. He's turned into a semi-tragic figure and the guilt he's carrying whether he remembers or not, with that he's already aware of doesn't do him any good. He's ripe for takedown if he continues this way, especially with the project going on at the Possible residence.

Now, though, I wonder what kind of 'conversation' Shego and Dark Kim will have in the upcoming chapter(s). And who will come out of it alive or imprisoned.

As for Kim, not sure she's redeemable, even if she can be brought back. And Ron...too many pieces to the overall puzzle that will drive him insane when he gathers his memories and the women in his life.

CB73

**_Very astute, CB: Kim really does have the "best intentions" and it's good to know that her motivations aren't as selfish and dark as we might have first been led to believe. In fact, I think her explanation dovetails quite nicely with our understanding of her innate "Kim-ness." But we all know how dangerous and delusional "best intentions" can be. Especially when we're laboring under artificially enhanced rage responses! And let's hope that Ron doesn't go insane because that giggling, blue, red-eyed lunatic looks like he's rather close to the surface again. As for Shego? Well, let's see what happens next… R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 217/13 . chapter 34_

ron this is your common sense calling i know we dont always see eye to eye but dude wake up these girls are throwing themself at you i dont care what you do about it but do something hell become a monk for all i care just do something

**_Be careful what you wish for… ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 228/13 . chapter 34_

And I'm caught up again. I'm somewhat sad that I missed the opportunity to answer the question at the end of the last chapter on time; I got that she was the Norwegian from your original description, and I do so enjoy your rewards. I'm looking forward to seeing what develops here, and I'm super excited to see a few lost threads (and the previously non-existent one too) making a showing in the recent rewrites/chapters.

**_Ah, sorry you missed giving the answer first. And sorry I didn't repost those last few chapters before you re-read them. Some little short additions and two or three very telling scenes… Stay tuned. R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 315/13 . chapter 34_

Interesting stories you have going here. Hmm, I'll start with the first series: 1) Was surprised that Mrs. Lipsky was "Mastermind". Would never expected that to begin with. 2) Nor Kim going evil or as Eugene says E-vile. 3) Hmm, somehow must've missed that Jessica and Liz died as well. Thought they ended up like the Tweebs. 4) Is Mankey deceased? 5) Too bad Camille's dead as well. 6) Liked the references to Procol Harum's "A Whiter Shade of Pale" and to the fic "Kironbon".

Now to this fic: 1) Penny Lane? Really? 2) Thought the part where Shego makes the crack about being an organ grinder was very funny. 3) I kind of feel bad for Ron, here are women who are now seeing him for what he really is, and he thinks it's all fake. 4) Are Courtney, Julia, Natasha, W.C. and any of the "nameless cheerleaders" from the last fic going to make an appearance (excluding Maggie and Linda). 5) Final Five: Shego, Viv, Elle, Bon-Bon, and Betty. 6) If James comes back does that defeat the purpose of what happened to Anne, and could it backfire? 7) I vote for any and all girls who are not attached (meaning Justine) and who are of age (Joss?) to join Sultan Ron's Harem.

Keep up the good work.

**_Welcome aboard Fox! (Your 1st review-though you've gone back and left ones for earlier chapters since this...) I hope you won't get too bored as the story must need unfold more slowly now. As for your feedback on PART I: 1) Good. But I hope it makes sense after the big reveal. I didn't want to make it too easy to guess her identity ahead of time but be totally logical once you re-read it. 2) Kim isn't evil—just ask her. In fact she explains it all to Shego just ahead. 3) By now it is hopefully obvious that Jessica, Liz, Mr. Dr. P and the Stoppable 'rents aren't necessarily dead but, thanks to Justine's tunable Einstein-Rosen bridge, exist in a state of quantum paradox like Shrödinger's Cat. 4) Nope. Although some would say that, living in a monastery, he might as well be. 5) Well, I did kill her off the first go-around. Ditto, Du. But in my most recent rewrite I left the fates of both characters a little more ambiguous… 6) Thanks. I drop a lot of stuff in and never know if anyone notices. PART II: 1) Yeah…coming up with names like Penny Lane, Karen Comfort, Perry Anthrust is kind of fun in honoring some of the Kim Possible naming conventions but I do try to not make them too ludicrous. 2) I'd forgotten that one. Keeping Shego's snark is kind of a challenge now that she's nominally "good." 3) Yeah, sometimes it's hard to remember that he's been through a lot of trauma and despite the number of chapters, it just wasn't that long ago. And then there's the distraction of Zorpox running around inside his head and trying to grab the steering wheel. 4) Damn! You're keeping track better than me! Wanna be my Beta? 5) I've added your votes. 6) Yeah, that could all go horribly wrong. Of course, some would say that it already has. 7) You really do hate Ron, don't you? ;-) And thank you for your support! As long as I have enthusiastic readers I'll be able to write enthusiastically! R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 825/13 . chapter 34_

yay I get to write another review. So it looks like lil Ronnie got his Monkey Mojo back and Kimmie has reasons that she's doing this and not because she's the anti-Kim or dark Kim or something.

ST-103

**_Yes, now Ronnie will be all-powerful and damn near invulnerable and will be totally out of danger...and I have a bridge in Brooklyn that I can seel you at a totally affordable price! ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>The Desert Fox 825/13 . chapter 34_

Talk about weird. 1st time around this was the chapter I got to review first. Since the repost, I've gone added more. Now to see this up, it's a little weird.

**_Little? No. Weird? Yes! But at least it's not "Creird"! R~13_**

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><p>Grin-Grin 825/13 . chapter 34

I, Grin-Grin, from the Planes of Boredom, hereby cast my vote for the folowwing:  
>Tara,<br>Electonique,  
>Joss,<br>Shaula Lesath and  
>the ghost of Warmonga...<p>

In the name of Fanfiction-y Chaos!

**_Zorpox? Is that you? R~13_**

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><p><em>sparrowhawk63 chapter 34 .430/14_

Wow. If Kim's little rant to the cheerleaders was for real and not just her slinging BS, she really doesn't have any redeeming qualities left. Just another whacked globalist One-Worlder. The road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Assemble your team and take her out. Save the World and yourself a bunch of grief. Go and save your wife or, if not possible, take your pick of one of the others, make her your own, and move on. Damn...

_**Careful, Comrad! The Supreme On-er-I mean, look! The black helicopters are coming our way! R~13**_


	35. Bitch Cassidy & The Sundress Kid

_**The votes for the "Final Five":**_

_**Shego – 14 votes**_

_**Bonnie – 12 votes**_

_**Tara – 12 votes**_

_**Vivian – 12 votes**_

_**Electronique – 10 votes**_

_**_**Yori – 9 votes**_**_

_**Amelia – 5 votes**_

_**Betty – 7 votes**_

_**Joss – 6 votes**_

_**Monique – 5 votes**_

_**Yoshi – 4 votes**_

_**Shaula Lesath – 3 votes**_

_**Zita - 1 vote**_

_**The Ghost of Warmonga – 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> Kim Possible and all original characters and plotlines of the show are NOT the property of this author and he makes NO profit from this fan-based work of fiction. If he DID, he would post updates more frequently.

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><p><strong>Chapter 35 – Bitch Cassidy and the Sundress Kid<strong>

"I'm sorry; run that by me again?" The former redhead's fists were balled, her muscles tense and quivering: she was ready to go into combat mode in any given second.

It's really simple, Princess," Shego drawled, still leaning against the door frame in a pose of utter relaxation. "You want to take over the world? I'm your Number Two Gal. Previous experience. Remember?"

Kim Possible snorted. "Yeah. Previous experience in FAILING to take over the world! Multiple times."

Shego shrugged. "So I backed the wrong horse. Bad plans? I was the bricklayer, not the architect." She held up one hand in a casual gesture and her fingers ignited briefly. "I'm very good at what I do." She blew gently on her hand the flames died away. "But I'm strictly sidekick material. Not into ruling the world myself and crowning myself as some kind of Supreme One…"

Dark Kim relaxed a bit but her fists remained clenched. "Supposing I was to believe you—ridiculous, given our history, of course—but how could I trust you and be sure that you wouldn't betray me?"

Shego straightened up and walked over to the pool. "Well, for one thing, you know me, Possible. Despite our past differences, you know that I keep my promises and I have a code."

"A code of evil," Kim observed.

"Yeah, well welcome to the club, Princess."

"Um, hel~lo: _not_ evil!"

Shego's eye widened. "Reeaally! So, this whole surround yourself with villains and take over the world project…?"

"The chip thing doesn't make me evil," Kim explained. "It's just given me clarity. I'm still good. I'm just practical, now. It's like they say: "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. And, if I'm running the world, I can eliminate crime and corruption, feed the hungry—"

"Walk on water?"

"Remind me again why I shouldn't kick your ass right now?"

Shego knelt down and fished Adrena Lynn out of the water. Holding the limp blonde up by one arm, she said: "You trust psycho-bitch here to have your back? She plays Number Two to no one." Dropping her back into the water, she turned to her former nemesis. "At least you know that I'm comfortable being Number Two. Even if it's to a blue moron who's so dense that light actually bends around him."

"Yeah, you're right. Every time I look at you, I'm thinking: 'number two'."

"Careful, Princess…" Shego's hand flared back up like a crackling, green bonfire. "…you don't want to piss me off!"

Kim crouched and raised her fists with a wicked grin. "Oh yeah? And what're ya gonna do about it if I do?"

Shego's gesture made a nice little fiery ring. "Walk out the door and go back to Ron Stoppable," she replied mildly.

Kim's mouth dropped open and her fists fell to her sides. "W-what?"

**RSVP**

"I don't believe it!" Monique squealed.

"You don't believe what?" Zita asked, as she field-stripped a pair of Heckler & Koch P2000s at a table near the bar.

Neither of them paid attention to the platinum blonde taking inventory with a clipboard. She looked more like a Nordic supermodel than a one of the newly hired kitchen staff. But then no one had paid her much mind a month earlier when she had sported a hard hat and seemed to be part of the remodeling crew, either.

The black girl had her face pressed to the newly replaced glass next to the newly replaced door facing the street. "There's some kind of fashion shoot just across from us at the edge of the Upperton U campus!"

The Hispanic girl rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me: you want to go over there and show them your pictures."

"Portfolio," Monique corrected. "And, no: that would be too intrusive…"

"Well, that's a surpr—"

"Of course, it would be different if I was to wander over there as an interested spectator and then the fact that I'm a fashion designer were to come up in the conversation," Monique concluded brightly.

"And just how do you suppose that might happen?" her companion scoffed gently as she ran a brush down the barrel of one of the nine millimeter handguns.

"It'll be easy if you just come along with me and follow my lead."

Zita shook her head. "These guns won't clean themselves and I want Tara to practice with them this afternoon on the target range."

"Oh, come on, Zita! Do it as a favor to Ron!"

The other girl's head snapped up. "For Ron? How do you figure that?"

"Well, as you know, Ron promised me a store in his mini-mall. The more successful_ I_ am in selling my fashions, the more _he_ benefits as well."

The Hispanic girl snorted. "Like _he_ needs the money. But I'll do it for _you_ on one condition..."

Monique cupped her hands to the glass and stared at the parade of lovelies. "O.M.G! Is that Alessandra Ambrosio? And Adriana Lima? What are they doing here in Upperton Colorado? Are they doing a Victoria's Secret shoot?" Monique cupped her hands to the window to block the glare. "What's your condition, Z? I really need to be out there!"

"Just put in a good word for me with Ron," Zita sighed, reassembling the HKs. "I'd like some space and backing to open a little Electronics and Game store if there's room."

"Sure, sure!" Monique jumped a little. "Is that Bar Refaeli? And Kate Upton! It's a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit shoot! No! Victoria's Secret—no! Yes! I don't know! Oh, Zita, I'll get down on my knees and beg Ron to give you a store right next to mine!"

"I don't know if I want you down on your knees in front of Ron," Zita snarked.

"What_ever_! Just go out there with me and when I give you the signal, say something about my fashion design exper—Oh! Oh! My! God! They're coming this way! Are they coming to Ron's restaurant? We're not open, yet! But they're coming this way! I've got to unlock the front doors!"

"Hey," Zita objected, "that violates security protocols! The entry scanners aren't online, yet. Viv and Betty need to do a threat assessment—"

"Are you kidding me?" Monique shrieked as she ran to the entryway. "They're world famous supermodels! And they're not wearing enough to hide a nail file much less a real weapon! How dangerous could a bunch of scantily-clad women be?

**RSVP**

"You stay away from him!" Kim growled.

Shego smirked. "Not that it's any of your business, K, but I'm out of the running for now so I won't be hanging with Ronnie for the foreseeable future."

If Kim had been a little less tweaked and a little more observant, she might have noticed that the green gladiatrix's smirk had a sickly edge to it. "_Ronnie?_ You don't get to call—wait! O_ut of the running_?"

Shego nodded with a little smile. Then tilted her head toward the other girls lounging in their bikinis. "Ask them. They're just part of the competition."

Kim whirled. "What? Who? Competition?"

"Well, duh, Princess!" she continued to snark. "You probably think that _he's _still the sidekick and that _you're_ all that. But ever since the videos from the Lowardian Invasion went viral, the rest of the world has come to see what Drakken and I had front-row seats to all along: you're the _distraction_ and he's the one who blew up the lairs, thwarted the evil plans, and saved the grateful girl."

"One time!" Kim bellowed back. "One time and one little trip to the Amazon to bring back a plant!"

Shego waved a green gloved hand. "Repelling an alien invasion aside, I'm not talking about _you_. I said _grateful_ girl. And it meant it in a generic way. I've lost count of the women who are presently anxious to express their gratitude—their deep, _deep_ gratitude! Am I right, ladies?"

Crystal had half risen from her lounge chair. "You mean, you're not Ron's Number One?" she asked hopefully. "Is he taken or are you just stepping aside?"

Hope and Marcella gave each other a meaningful look and leaned forward, the question naked and needy on their suddenly flushed faces.

"It's that Director woman, isn't it?" Marcella asked. "He likes older woman. If it wasn't going to be you, then she's his obvious choice."

Kim looked gobsmacked. "Ron and Dr. Director? But—he wouldn't!" Her face grew thoughtfully grim. "On the other hand, she was working a little too hard at keeping us apart last year…"

Kim's suspicions were sidetracked as Hope voiced her own: "I think you're right about the older woman vibe, Marcy, but we know he's got a thing about redheads. I think he finally got tired of fighting off Anne."

"Anne?"

"Yeah, K," Crystal elaborated. "Your mom."

"_WHAT?"_

**RSVP**

As Ron pushed Tara's wheelchair from the rooftop bay for the hoverpod toward the elevator, he turned to Big Mike. "You know, it's not that far to the lift but we're kind of exposed from here to there."

The ridiculously large man nodded, looking around at the greenhouses, the ninja monkey quarters, the drone hangers, and the patio and recreational areas. "The whole roof is kinda open to an aerial attack if youse looks at it that way."

"Well, yeah. Though we're working on some counter-measures. I'm just thinking about a situation where the pod is under pursuit and has to come in hot. The landing bay provides some protection but you're effectively trapped there unless you break cover to run for the building access."

"I'll talk to Dr. Porter and Dr. Director," Big Mike rumbled. "Mebbe a shielded path to the elevator, mebbe an access hatch and ladder from inside the bay. See what they think. Unless youse has a preference?"

"I'll defer to their judgment." He hesitated as he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. "Ow."

"What's wrong?"

"I think I have a pebble in my shoe. You go ahead and take Tara on down. I'm going to need a moment." He limped over to one of the rooftop storage sheds and leaned against the wall to pull off his shoe.

Big Mike gave him a look, shrugged, and took over Tara's wheelchair. As soon as they were inside the elevator and the doors closed, Ron slipped his shoe back on and closed his eyes.

Slowly, he raised his right arm and extended it out to his side. Opening his hand, he took a deep breath. There was a sizzling sound and then a soft "pop."

A familiar-looking sword appeared in his grasp.

**RSVP**

"Oh, ja, ja, fräulein! Foto-chutes is being thirsty work!" the little photographer told Monique and Zita as a dozen scantily clad supermodels crowded the bar in search of a drink. The little man had a sallow complexion and wore a strange skullcap with eyeholes and a red tunic with a badge that said: "Victoria's Illustrated – Official Photographer".

"What made you pick this location for your chute—I mean, shoot, Mr. Demenz?" Monique asked as Zita struggled to serve their vivacious visitors.

"Pleace, pleace; call me Otto…"

"All right…Otto…"

"Ve recognice that the largest demographic for scantily clad vimmen ist der college crowd. Und zo it only seemt logical to brink ze models to a college campus for ze chute."

"But vhy—er—why Upperton Colorado? Otto."

"Ach, zat is because of the chance of meeting ze famous Kimberly Possible or even ze Ronald Shtoppable—I know zat der ladies vould like to be meeting him!"

"Ron Stoppable…" the nearest model sighed.

"Oh yes," another cooed, "I wish that I could meet him!"

The utterance of Ron's name set off a domino effect across the room as the other beauties heard and echoed romantic sentiments.

_Uh oh_, Monique and Zita thought simultaneously, _my competition is bad enough without adding supermodels to the mix!_

"Yah," Otto said with a strangely disturbing grin, "ve haff heard that he has recently been seen in zis neighborhood. You vouldn't know where we might be finding him. Maybe?"

Both girls shook their heads.

Unfortunately, Brick Flagg chose that moment to enter the bar. "Holy cow," he exclaimed, taking in the panorama of pulchritude. "Let me guess. You ladies are all here to see Stopps."

Except for the mutual growls emanating from the throats of Monique and Zita, you could have heard a pin drop as twelve pairs of eyes fixed their brainwashed gaze upon the blond quarterback…

**RSVP**

"So, I walk into Yoshiko Kyoko's room and find him making the beast with two backs with his little sister's nanny _au pair_—" Shego was recounting.

Crystal whistled. "That _au pair_ has a _nice _pair!"

"—and it hasn't even been two hours since I walked into his room to find him in bed with Bonnie _Cock_waller stradding him like a championship cowgirl in the bull-riding event at the county rodeo," the former head of security finished.

"That bitch!" Marcella and Hope yelled.

Kim sat on the edge of one of the recliners, her face ashen. "So, I guess you had no choice but to leave if you didn't want to share," she said numbly.

"Oh, we don't mind sharing!" Hope offered adamantly. "Right, Marcy?"

"Yeah," Hope flashed her friend a sweet smile. "As long as we don't have to share with Bon Bon…"

**RSVP**

Ron edged around the rooftop shed and caught a flash of something hiding behind a large metal vent.

Calling upon his Yamanouchi ninja training, he ran silently toward the old obstruction and leapt up on top of its gently curved rain guard as he brought the lotus blade down for a killing stroke.

The silvery sword stopped a good distance from his prey—at least six inches.

"Anne?"

Dr. Anne Possible—former fortyish neurosurgeon and now twentyish amnesiac—was crouched down, wearing nothing but a brief thong. Her arms were crossed in front of her with her hands barely managing to cover the better parts of her impressive breasts. "H-hi, Ron," she said nervously.

"Uuuhhhhhhh—what are you doing?" he asked casually, sheathing his sword in a bit of folded apace/time continuum.

"Well," she said, standing up, "I _was_ sunbathing. I figured I'd have a bit of privacy up here on the roof so I took my top off…"

"Your…top…" he echoed, his eyes irresistibly drawn to the generous fleshy globes that threatened to overflow her trembling hands.

"Yes," she answered, seeming to find her courage. No one else was around and it fueled her boldness with him. She stood more erect now with her head back, her back arched, and her chest thrust forward. "My top. I was careful to check for wind when I laid it aside. But I wasn't expecting the return of the hoverpod just now. And you brought it in so fast that the backwash blew it right over the side of the building!"

"I am so sorry, Anne!" He reached up and pulled off his shirt, baring his own torso to the late Spring sunshine. "Here, take my shirt."

**RSVP**

"Oo-o-kay," Kim said a little unsteadily. "I can maybe believe that some of you have come to see Ron as the sweet, kind, heroic boy that he has always been—"

"Not a boy, Princess, but a man."

"—or that he has used his MMP to get a little payback for the little bitch-fest that you turned his high school years into," she added, ignoring Shego and largely addressing the other cheerleaders. "But I cannot—I _will_ not—believe that Ron would corrupt my mother into doing—unspeakable things with him!" she shrilled.

Shego shrugged. "For once we agree on something, Kimmie. I think everyone would agree that it was pretty much the other way around…"

**RSVP**

Anne Possible's hands came away from her bosom but she did not take the proffered shirt.

Instead, she took a step toward him and pushed her chest forward provocatively.

"Ron," she said softly, "I don't want to cover them up, yet. They need more sun. Don't you think?"

"Uhhhh, no," he answered, averting his gaze. "I think they're perfect."

And they were.

Fulsome.

"Perfectly _white_," Anne corrected. "I need some sun-related Vitamin D. And some color! They look like Hostess Snowballs." She took another step toward him. "Don't you think they look like Hostess Snowballs, Ron?"

"Wha—the snack cake?"

"Yes, Ronnie Darling: the snack cake." She took another, gliding step. "Don't you think they look like _snack…_ cakes? Are you hungry, Baby? Would you like something sweet? Something to…put in your mouth…?"

There was a war going on in Ronald Dean Stoppable's heart and head.

And not just for Ron "Prime" but for and among the various components and composites of his multitudinous personality.

Even Zorpox was conflicted.

Anne Possible née Credible was a beautiful woman in her forties with the births of three children in her rear-view mirror. As a mystically regressed twenty-five year old she was simply stunning. Add to that that Ron Stoppable had grown up feeling the love for a second mother figure as well as the schoolboy crush on an older woman—all mixed up with the harmonic resonance of feelings for the forgotten Kim Possible whom Anne so closely resembled.

He _wanted_ her.

He was never so sure of anything as he was of that particular emotion/need/drive…right now!

But he also knew on some deeper level, buried down in his psyche—in his soul—that it was _wrong_ to take advantage of this woman in her obvious confusion and vulnerability.

And that, for some deeper, forgotten, seemingly unknowable reason…

…that it would be _wrong-sick_ in ways that he could scarcely fathom!

And yet…

His hands clenched impotently.

And even Zorpox held his breath past the point of turning blue.

She took his hand and tried to place it on her breast.

**RSVP**

A half a world away a woman groaned as she began the process of pushing her child out from the nightmare maze of fevered dreams that separated her from the waking world of her beloved.

**RSVP**

"I don't believe it!" Kim screamed. A bright red dot in her forehead flared and blinked furiously as she jumped to her feet. "You!" she bellowed, pointing at Shego. "You say you want to be my sidekick? Prove it. Smuggle me inside that compound…"

**RSVP**

Instead, Ron lifted his hand and placed it on the back of Anne's head, pulling her against him in an intimate embrace.

**RSVP**

"…or lure him out to mine," a thoroughly enraged KP finished.

Shego regarded her speculatively. "And then what?"

"Despite your years working for a villainous, blue megalomaniac," the former redhead said coldly, "it's probably best that you don't know."

**RSVP**

"Well, sure…" Brick stuttered, trying to answer the barrage of questions that were suddenly rolling over him. "Stopps is upstairs. I mean we just got back from the hospital and landed on the roof. I'm sure that he'll be down in a mo—"

And then he went down. Hard.

Brick Flagg had faced truly intimidating linemen, defensive players built like human tanks and insanely motivated to grind him into the dirt.

The supermodel stampede made his worst day of scrimmage seem like a walk in the park and he was spitting carpet fibers out of his mouth long after the last scantily covered derrière had finished undulating up the stairs.

**RSVP**

A half a world away Dr. Amy Hall injected herself with another round of genetic re-mappers.

She need greater stamina if she was going to be more efficient in accomplishing her task.

Her short, squat physique held her back in some of the more physical challenges of getting up and down the mountainous terrain near Yamanouchi.

Her eyes were too weak and she was always losing her glasses.

There were things she could do about it with rapid genetic mutation but deep down a voice was reminding her that she should proceed slowly and more cautiously: her cellular stability was still a bit wonky from divesting herself of that gorilla physique she had tried on while looking for Monty a couple of years back.

But she wasn't paying any real attention to that voice as she stood and wobbled over to make some last minute adjustments to her portable gene-splicer. Ever since she had started the treatments on herself, she had found herself to be a little absent-minded at times. Perhaps she should give her gray matter a little genetic tweak, she thought as she initiated the clone-acceleration sequence.

She knew she was pushing herself too hard and too fast but, as days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and then a year and more had passed, she felt that time was running out!

Leaving the tunneling site at the base of Mount Yamanouchi had been difficult but necessary as the splicer required considerable amounts of electrical power (not to mention hard-to-acquire chemical components). But, with the monkey serum failing and her simian labor force becoming more unstable she had to find another way. And her time away from the task of digging to find her monkey-wonkey-snookums could be more than off-set by having a human army of tunneling slaves who could blast through dirt and rock with mutant plasma-powers.

_The question was could she control the Shego clones and make them do her bidding?_

Based on her sample of Shego's DNA, the clones would not only have her cosmic powers for blasting the tunnel deeper under the mountain, they would also have her combative personality, as well!

DNAmy picked up a device she called The Agonizer. It was a remote control device that would stimulate the pain centers of the brain of all of the clones from this particular recipe batch. If one got out of line, all would suffer until she had complete obedience. The beauty of principle was that it was not only simple and direct but that the other clones would help keep any rebellious individuals in line in order to avoid their own suffering.

But she would have to stay vigilant: a quartet of plasma-flinging Shegos could certainly gain the advantage if they ever caught her with her finger off of the trigger-button. It would have been better of Professor Dementor was here to help her with this project but at least he had been willing to drop by her lab, grab the DNA sample from her "S" files, and fly all of the way out here to drop it off as he began the process of brainwashing rounding up supermodels for his own nefarious scheme.

The timer dinged and the tops slid open on the four tanks where the genetic copies had just been rapidly sequenced and matured from the DNA sample from her lab back home.

She readied The Agonizer as a pale hand emerged from the soup of nutrients and chemicals and gripped the side of the first tank.

A head appeared, coated with an opaque, mucous-like veil. As the goo dribbled down the neck and shoulders of the rising form, the true features of the face were slowly revealed.

Amy shrieked and nearly dropped the remote.

Three more clones rose and were revealed…

Oh, this was more than wrong!

It was wrong-sick!

Times four!

"God damn you, Demenz!" she shrieked as the quartet of clones rose from the goo and gave her _that look!_

**RSVP**

"Oh, Anne…" Ron sighed, breathing gently next to her ear. "I want you to listen to me…"

"Yes, Ron…" she murmured, pressing against him and sliding her arms up his back. "Tell me. Tell me what you want…"

He hugged her tightly, fiercely.

And, for a moment, it felt as if his resolve might fail.

Then, a blue glow began to envelop them both and he whispered: "I want you to remember…"

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: You all know the movie, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the story of two guys who were on the wrong side of the law. Well, switch them out for Kim and Shego and tell me who's the Sundress Kid?<strong>

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><p><strong>AuthorsNotes****:_ Desert Fox mentioned something in his last review that has been alluded to before by some of my other readers. I've given a little lengthier explanation in my reply but it involves a Spoiler Alert so skip my response to The Desert Fox if you want to wait for Justine Flanner's explanation a few more chapters down the road. On the other hand, it's not that big of a spoiler (though a bit complicated and scienc-y) and may be helpful depending on your point of view. If you're curious, Google "Shrödinger's Cat" and then decide if you want the spoiler... My personal recommendation? Skip the Wikipedia and other more complex explanations and go with the "newscientist" link and the video on "one-minute-physics-is-schrodingers-cat-dead-or-alive" page._**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 35<strong>

_Uberscribbler 3/24/13 . chapter 35_

Oh...spit.

There are moments when I wish you were back to posting three to four chapters at a go. At least then the revelations were hitting too fast and too furious, such that even Vinn couldn't have kept his footing.

This is one of those moments.

My only uncertainty is which I find more horrible: the likelihood that spirit!Rufus will (perhaps deliberately) misunderstand the last five words of this chapter...or the supermodel stampede on its way towards Ron. If I had to choose, right here right now, it would be the latter. Having see such things in films (okay, a film, and a Monty Python one to boot), its not something I'd *ever* want to have heading my way.

Heh. I said "heading". Heh-heh-heh-heh.

Seriously though, this needs to get updated and soon. The imagination is just too dangerous a thing to leave with these images to play with.

**_Perhaps Ron should change the name of his establishment from "Dean's" to "Castle Anthrax." And perhaps the ladies should all insist on a good spanking. (For those of you who haven't seen _****Monty Python and the Holy Grail****_…well, I weep for the cultural emptiness of this generation.) R~13_**

**_*Update: Uberscribbler clarified that his Monty Python reference was to: _**"Monty Python and the Meaning of Life", specifically from Part VII entitled "Death". The scene in question is where a condemned man is afforded his choice of execution: he's chased off a cliff by a horde of topless women, whereupon he falls (literally) into his own, pre-dug grave.

**_I had forgotten about that particular scene-there were so many good ones! I must confess that my favorite Monty Python film is "The Life of Brian". A movie that necessitated many conversations with my friends wherein I had to explain the significant difference between "sacreligious" and "irreverent"._**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 324/13 . chapter 35_

So Anti-Kim is only sorta whacked, Shego is what the hell is she doing...she is helping Ron out knowing that Kimmie is really the only gal he's gonna be happy with. But lo and behold it looks like there's gonna be another stampede. Poor Ron...hell poor Annie.

ST-103

**While we may suppose we know what Auntie—er—anti-Kim is up to, our former redhead may not actually know her own mind as well as she thinks. Shego, on the other hand, has already played the role of double-agent. Has she upped her game to triple-agent, now? Time well tell—though I won't, just yet. Poor Ron? Probably. Poor Anne? Maybe… R~13**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 324/13 . chapter 35_

Boring. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Actually it was a good one.  
>Slow, not really. Take over the world? Yeah, yeah, been there done that. It's been done many times: 1) The Hapsburgs, the 2) Spanish (post 1700), 3) the British, 4) Communism, 5) Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch and Steve Jobs. There might be a few others, I think.<p>

Hmm, that part about Zita and Monique, was totally random. Wait, back track, I get it. I feel a little sorry for Bonnie. But she made her bed, and now she has to lie in it. Credible? Isn't that the family in the "Incredibles"? Otto Demenz? Well at least it's not Miranda Priestly and her entourage of Nigel Kipling, Emily and Serena and Andy Sachs-Priestly. I mean Priestly-Sachs, no wait Sachs. That's right Andréa Sachs (Ahn-dre-ah) as Miranda calls her. Bitch Cassidy? Sounds like something that Jessie (from Team Rocket) would call Cassidy, her rival.

1) I was kind of hoping that it was a random villain. Not one of the usual KP villains just a new one. I guess I like Mrs. Lipsky, mostly because she reminds me of George Costanza's mom (yes she's voiced by her). 2 Right, that's how she justifies it. 3) Err, yeah, I'll just take your word for it. 4) I only mention Mankey being deceased because I haven't heard a peep from him. 5) True, but they could be reanimated. After all you are essentially bringing people back from the dead. 6) No what I meant, was using the name Penny Lane like in the Beatles song "Penny Lane". 7) Use reformed villains from television or movies as a guide. 8) No thanks. Not enough patience to deal with that sort of thing. Also I made a list keeping track of who likes Ron or any potential likes, something that I started with Kironbon, who moved in and who hadn't. Plus I have a decent memory. 9) We shall see. 10). Hate Ron? Nope I utterly despise him. :P

Keep up the good work.

**_(Spoiler Alert!)_**

**_Let me expand a little on my previous response in regards to the issues of quantum paradoxes and Shrödinger's Cat. I'll have Justine Flanner explaining this a little farther down the road though I do recommend that my readers google Shrödinger's Cat—it's a classic explanation of "quantum paradox". The simplest explanation as it impacts Jessica's return from the dead is simply this:_**

**_When the Stoppable house exploded, presumably killing everyone inside several weeks ago, there were no bodies recovered among the ashes. Justine and the Tweebs constructed an artificial wormhole—an Einstein-Rosen bridge—that has opened an interspatial portal into that house (and into the past) when enables travel between that time and that place and the present. So Jessica (and perhaps others) could be taken out of the blast zone before she was actually killed. Because there was no body (and no "historical" death) her survival does not constitute a temporal or true quantum paradox because she "may not have died."_**

**_If Justine was to use the same device to go back in time and actually prevent the deaths where there were actual bodies left behind and presumably embalmed and then buried—you would have a different situation. To change this would mean changing history and would create a temporal paradox that would create an alternate timeline/history and who knows what the consequences would be!_**

**_It may seem like a small difference but "the" Jessica and Liz and .P and the Stoppables inside the house seconds before the explosion, exist in a state of "quantum flux" like Shrödinger's Cat: because there were no bodies recovered at the scene, their status in this timeline is uncertain. Like the Tweebs, they are presumed to be dead but Jim and Tim are very much alive and, if they turned up tomorrow, it wouldn't create a temporal paradox because they were never really dead. Were the others in the Stoppable house when it exploded ever really dead? According to quantum physics, they exist in a state of quantum uncertainty until the "cosmic box" is opened (again see: Shrödinger's Cat). They may be "presumed" dead like the Tweebs without actually being dead if they are able to get out via the wormhole before the explosion is complete as Jessica did. To go back and change a situation where subsequent evidence and witnesses would prove contradictory to the changed reality, would create temporal paradoxes, literally screwing up reality._**

**_So the opportunities for "do-overs" are severely limited. _**

**_And in some "parallel" time-line/reality, Ron Stoppable is still choking down meatcakes in Scandanavia. Whew! R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 324/13 . chapter 35_

There's going to be so many things and people flying around in this crossfire, once it really gets cranked up, they're gonna need several groups of Air Traffic Controllers in Kevlar to keep up with what's coming.

And Otto, you had better head back to Bavaria if you know what's good for you.

CB73

**_Air Traffic Controllers? How about Airplane, the movie? (And don't call me Shirley!) R~13_**

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><p><em>A very odd fellow 324/13 . chapter 35_

I think I'm caught up on the reworks, unless you done even more since my last review. I'm excited to finally see the supermodel chapter on the horizon, and I'm trying to be patient in waiting for the Uptopian & Lowardian thread to come to fruition. I don't know that I'm succeeding, but I am trying. Keep up the good work, and hope life improves for you!

**_Sorry, Odd, I did repost several chapters with more Uptopian edits a day or two after you posted your review saying that you'd reread up to Chapter 34. Will be reposting a few more in the coming days. You can tell my progress by the removal of the "TP##" designations before the chapter titles in the pulldown menus. R~13_**

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><p><em>KinZer0 324/13 . chapter 35_

Oooh AP gets her memory back. I'm actully pulling for a harem of older women, so Anne Betty and Shego are my favorites for this story.

**_Yeah, I have to admit to a fondness for the older ladies, too. But will Ron? And will the whole Possible family dynamic turn fan-squick-tion if Anne & Ron ever consummate? R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 326/13 . chapter 35_

yay winning suggestion comming to fuition. Ron's emotional is just getting worse

**_If you've been reading me this far, you know that being chased by a mob of supermodels is likely to be more nightmare than fantasy… (lol) R~13_**

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><p><em>Jc 828/13 . chapter 35 _

Great,I say make it that Kim,s Dad did Die and thers No Way to save him,it,s the Only Way for Ron and Anne to Hook-up.  
>I hope your Planing a New Ron,s HaremLemon story,where Kim,Anne,Shego,Bonnie,Tara,Yori,Monique,Betty and a few Others are in his Harem.  
>Maybe Ron is the only Male over 13 that is still alive,it could happed in season2 or 3.<br>What do you think of my idea.

**_Well, keep reading to find out what happens between Ron and Anne. As for any "new" stories? I think I've already hinted that the RSVP Saga will probably be it for me. Of course, I have planned out the rest of Part II, and I still intend to do Part III. Part IV is a bit up in the air. I'm still trying to gauge reader interest-it feels like my follows are cooling down a bit...but we'll see. R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 828/13 . chapter 35_

I take it the year is 2009. I think it would have to be given that some time has passed since Kim and Ron graduated in 2007. Actually I've been under the impression that Kim was the sidekick and that Ron was the hero. Why is Kim the distraction? Because Shego, Drakken and the other villains chase after her and pay no attention to Ron. If Ron were the distraction, they would be chasing after him. Hmm, the part about Zorpox going past blue, it's like Walter said, "If you choke a Smurf, what color does it turn?" Ron, you're an idiot for giving Mrs. P her memories back. She's going to react very badly to the fate of her family.

Response for your response: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Look there are a bunch of us who aren't part of Dr. Sheldon Cooper B.S., M.S., M.A., Ph.D., Sc.D's posse. If you want to explain something scientific, please use moronic English.

**_True dat. Ronnie-boy is sort of the stealth lair-destroyer while Kim gets all flashy, showing off her moves against Shego and the less, athletically inclined. As for Mrs. (Dr.) P? We'll see what will come in the next couple of chapters..._**

**_Go back a chapter for the "moronic" explanation of the whole cat/paradox thing. I went back and slipped it in. Bazinga! R~13_**


	36. Orgy of Doom

**_Authors/ Notes: Sorry for the delay. More feedback on my other projects has shifted my investment of time management but I haven't forgotten this story. Although I have to wonder about the audience here: most of what I see posted these days is KIGO so I wonder if there's much interest in the "alternative."_**

**_A new scene for the new plot thread plus some other adjustments. Excelsior!_**

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><p><strong><em>The votes for the "Final Five":<em>**

_**Shego – 15 votes**_

_**Bonnie – 13 votes**_

_**Tara – 13 votes**_

_**Vivian – 12 votes**_

_**Electronique – 11 votes**_

_**_**Yori – 9 votes**_**_

_**_**_**Betty – 7 votes**_**_**_

_**Amelia – 6 votes**_

_**Monique – 6 votes**_

_**Joss – 6 votes**_

_**Yoshi – 4 votes**_

_**Shaula Lesath – 3 votes**_

_**Zita - 1 vote**_

_**The Ghost of Warmonga – 1 vote**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> Hey, if the people who really do own the rights to Kim the Possible franchise don't believe that there's any profit to be made from writing new episodes, what makes you think that I'd make any money as I DON'T have any creative or financial rights to the source material? Just a fan faction, NFP tribute, man!

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><p><strong>Chapter 36 – Orgy of Doom<strong>

"Oh, Anne…" Ron sighed, breathing gently next to her ear. "I want you to listen to me…"

"Yes, Ron…" she murmured, pressing against him and sliding her arms up his back. "Tell me. Tell me what you want…"

He hugged her tightly, fiercely.

And, for a moment, it felt as if his resolve might fail.

Then, a blue glow began to envelop them both and he whispered: "I want you to remember…"

And she _did._

**RSVP**

"I must say, Timothy, that this spandex material is so tight and form-fitting that I might as well go cavorting in public in my birthday suit!"

The former _Fearless Ferret_ actor turned and regarded his newlywed and newly de-aged wife with an appreciative eye. Nancy North, the former Nancy "Nan" Possible and mother to Dr. Mr. Possible and his brother Slim, was hot! As in twenty-something and at the peak of physical perfection hot!

Of course, he didn't look so bad, himself. The Rejuvinator had regressed their aged bodies back to their prime-somewhere in their late twenties if Nancy's costumed curves were any indication.

North had worked out back then to widen his appeal as a budding actor in television and even a couple of movies. Then the role of the _Fearless Ferret_ came along and the studio had provided personal trainers to whip him into extraordinary shape for the show. His physique had weathered the years quite well but the strange ray-gun that Nancy had used on them both had restored all of the vigor and optimal aspects of a younger man at the peak of his health. Muscles bulged beneath his Ferret costume and he felt as if he could whip an entire squad of henchmen with one gloved hand tied behind his back.

But Nan...or Nancy...?

Timothy North was an actor, a man who had been in tip top shape when he took on the role that defined his career and made him an icon for an entire generation (and another to follow thanks to TV Trash Heap). He had been a formidable boxer in college as well as the Marine Corps and then studied Jeet Kun Do under Bruce Lee before the venerable master had died at too young an age. Even if the _Fearless Ferret_ wasn't real, the rejuvinated Timothy North was a formidable force.

But the "real deal" was Nan North née Possible. By the time she was sixteen Nancy had trained with Shaolin monks, becoming adept in the ancient arts of _Páng Láng Quán_, or Northern Praying Mantis kung fu and _Pán Lóng Quán_, Striking Dragon Fist. Her studies had not stopped there: she had expanded her knowledge of the various forms over the years that had followed-so much so that she was even able to spar into her seventies, utilizing styles similar to moves that her granddaughter and Shego displayed in their own martial arts combat moves.

Her work during the time of her military service was largely classified: all that her new husband knew was that she was the first woman to complete the U.S. Navy's Underwater Demotion Training, making her, in effect, the equivalent of a Navy Seal just a year or so before the program was officially designated. Building on her training as a Navy pilot, she had gone one to become one of the three top aviatrixes in the world.

It was only by chance that he discovered that she held the rank of LCDR-Lieutenant Commander, ret.

He smiled to think that it was her formidable cooking skills (especially her famous lemon squares) that had caught his attention at first.

But here she was, a young woman again, with the lifetime's accumulation of all of the wisdom and knowledge of a septuagenarian and the body of an Olympic athlete in her prime.

All on display in the skintight costume he had given her to wear as the crime-fighting companion of the _Fearless Ferret_!

"I can't wear this," she reiterated. "It's bad enough that my granddaughter runs about, baring her belly for the world to see. But this, this body-stocking puts everything on display! You can see my nipples from across the room!"

Timothy North a.k.a. the _Fearless Ferret_ thought she looked magnificent, however, and tried, one last time, to convince her to commit to the matching costume.

She shook her head at his arguments. "Timothy! Never mind that I am uncomfortable with putting myself on display in such a manner...or even more so at the appellation 'Weasel Woman'. These costumes are simply wrong for what we wish to accomplish."

"But...but...Nanikens! The costume of the _Fearless Ferret_..." He gave her a meaningful look. "...and Ferret Girl, not Weasel Woman...would once more strike fear in the hearts of evildoers everywhere!" He struck a pose in his F.F. costume. Then he coughed. "And, of course, we must keep our true identities a secret in the time-honored tradition of superheroes everywhere..."

"Don't be silly, my love," the no-nonsense young woman chided sweetly. "First of all, the _Fearless Ferret_ was a TV show so real villains will be predisposed to think of your appearance as some sort of prank..."

"At first, maybe," North interrupted.

"...but the whole secret identity thing goes out the window because everybody knows that actor Timothy North played him on TV."

"There was another Ferret," he argued, "just a couple of years ago. Everyone saw that we weren't the same."

"Yes, I know. Young Ronald Stoppable. But he's come back after disappearing last year and, if anything, his profile is higher than it's ever been. The press won't be hunting him, they'll come looking for you. And what happens when they find that Timothy North has been magically transformed into the image of a young Greek god? Secret identity blown!" She crossed her arms across her perky assets. "I have an idea for some new costumes and identities..."

**RSVP**

"She's at five centimeters," one of the nurses called out.

Next to the bed a monitor began to beep insistently.

"What can I do?" Hirotaka asked wildly.

The doctor and the two nurses ignored him as they hurried around the makeshift hospital room, preparing the patient and monitoring her vitals.

At the center of all of their worried busyness, Yori was still once more.

As if saving every last shred of strength and endurance to see this through to the very end.

A calming hand fell on his shoulder from behind.

"Relax, young man," the barely recognizable voice said from behind him. In just a few weeks the combined forces of the cancer and the chemotherapy had robbed that voice of its rich, deep tone and strong Mediterranean accent.

Señor Senior Senior was a ghost of his former self and so was his voice. Yet, he was on his feet—albeit in his robe and holding onto the pole of the portable IV that went with him everywhere he was able to go. He patted Hirotaka on the shoulder once more and then nudged him toward the bed. "Go and sit with her, son. Hold her hand. Tell her that everything will be all right."

"But what if it isn't?" the young ninja whispered.

The old man sighed. "I have lived many years and have gone through many things, my young friend. One of the few things that I manage to still believe in—even feel more strongly with each passing year—is that it is always better to act and speak hopefully, no matter what may come. If pain and suffering and loss are to come our way, we must no let them steal any of our hope, our joy, our…present…one moment sooner than is absolutely necessary. And should we avert the doom we fear?" He made a slight gesture and the IV going into the back of his hand jiggled like a slackened leash. "Then we wasted time over fears that were but false distractions from our happiness."

Hirotaka gazed at Yori and swallowed. "I cannot help it Senior-san. I am still afraid for her…"

**RSVP**

_Some Philosophies believe that the words that an individual speaks go out into the universe and these expressions quite literally affect their karma in most literal and concrete ways._

_Or the other hand, perhaps it was nothing more than a plan by Professor Dementor to utilize mind-control chips to infiltrate "The Bunker" and strike at Ron Stoppable in a manner that he was unlikely to anticipate._

_In any event, Ron Stoppable's offhand wish of four years ago was about to come true with a vengeance. _

_Hounded and surrounded by Fukushima and Lord Montgomery Fiske's monkey ninjas while on an exchange visit to the Yamanouchi school in Japan, he had cried: "Aw, Fuji! Why is it always monkeys? Why can't I ever be attacked by crazed supermodels?"_

_Now, some four years later, Fukushima was dead and Monkey Fist was as good as. And Ron had overcome his fear of monkeys._

_The same could not be said of his fear of scantily clad supermodels. Over a dozen of which were thundering up the warehouse stairs toward the roof even as Ron was force-feeding Anne Possible a barrage of MMP-fueled memories._

_And, unlike the old saying about spiders and snakes..._

_...these international hotties were definitely NOT more afraid of him than he was of them._

**RSVP**

Kim Possible was in a quandary.

Her recent somewhat ally but also hardcore former foe was proposing an alliance.

Moreover, it was one that cast Shego in the subservient role.

Unfortunately, it was an offer that seemed too good to be true.

The story of her unrequited love for Kim's former partner?

The multiple rejections?

The hurt and frustration of being pushed away resulting in her leaving and seeking a place at Kim's side?

_Ridiculous!_

…probably…

But two things kept flitting through her head as she worked toward a response.

First, there was the old saw: 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.'

And then there was the likelihood that, if she sent her away, Shego would probably go back to Ron…

And _that_ was unacceptable on _so_ many levels.

"Well, Princess?" the would-be traitor asked, her arms crossed in front of her.

"If this is going to work, Kim said, forcing a scowl to mask the sudden plan that was blooming in her brain, "I need to know how good you are at following orders."

"Yeah, sure." Shego frowned back. "Within reason. I'm not jumping off any cliffs just because you say so."

"Of course. Please wait inside for me. I want a word with my _former_ Number Two."

Adrena Lynn pulled back a curtain of drenched hair from her face and pouted. "Boss! You're not gonna—"

"Zip it, Lynn. You seem to keep forgetting who's in charge, here!" Kim snarled. Turning back to Shego she said more politely: "Please. This will just take a moment. Wait for me inside, over by the staircase."

"All right, Kimmie! The new 'tude suits you." Her former nemesis turned and went back into the mansion.

"Boss…I…"

Kim waved away the coming apology. "Don't worry, A. Tell me, quickly: where did we put that Truth Ray you stole last week?"

Adrena Lynn looked startled. Then she began to smile. "You mean…?"

Kim began to morph her appearance into that of a wet and bedraggled Adrena Lynn, drawing on the powers of Camille Leone that were stored in the stone of Aviarius. "Quickly! And make yourself scarce until I'm done."

"Okay, Boss," the original Lynn said with a grin. It's upstairs in the security office on the second floor. In the closet with some other stuff that hasn't been inventoried yet. It's the first weapon in the rack on the left. The first on the left." She nodded over at Kim's cheerleader friends. "What about them?"

The woman who now was a perfect double for the former extreme sports star turned and gave the other girls a brittle smile. "They're going to stay right here and work on their tans. _Aren't you_, girls?

Marcella, Hope, and Crystal swallowed nervously and nodded vigorously.

"Good." New Adrena Lynn looked at old Adrena Lynn. "Keep an eye on them until I return."

"You got it boss!"

**RSVP**

Memories slammed into the former neuro-surgeon's head like a cerebral train wreck.

Memories of her daughter…

…as her _daughter!_

Memories of her husband, Dr. James Timothy Possible!

Memories of herself _as_ Dr. Anne Possible!

And that—no matter how painful the memories of this past year might be—_this_ was her reality, no matter how different she might wish things to be.

Her husband and her sons were gone.

Her daughter was apparently a super-villain now and seemingly bent on destroying her former fiancé, Ron Stoppable.

Ron…

Was anything that she had felt (still felt?) for the incredible young man in her embrace…real?

Or was it just a part of her fading psychosis?

She leaned back and gazed into his warm, brown eyes.

Whatever she had felt—or was still feeling—she couldn't go any farther down this road.

Could she?

It would be wrong…

Maybe wrong-sick.

But…

If Kim didn't want him…

And she was a widow…

_An incredibly hot, twenty-five year-old widow…_

She shook her head.

She needed to think.

And she couldn't think while staring into the chocolaty depths of those sweet, soulful eyes…

That just turned blue!

"Ron, what—?"

He vanished from her embrace.

Or, rather, he was knocked from her arms by the impact of two brunettes and a redhead wearing undersized bikinis!

His head struck the side of a reinforced, steel exhaust vent. And he went very, very still as a dozen scantily-clad supermodels piled on top of him like a fumbled ball in Superbowl overtime.

**RSVP**

Shego was looking all about, committing measurements to memory: number of rooms, placement of windows and exits, any kind of intel that she could take back with her once she had wrung every secret plot and plan out the enemy camp.

As of now, she had no plans to return to Ron—'s warehouse on a permanent basis. But she would go back long enough to give Betty and Vivian the info that would help keep him safe. She would do that much…even if it was too painful to remain and be passed over for another.

"Casing the joint?"

Shego's head snapped up as Adrena Lynn entered the hall, still looking like a drowned poodle. "Where's Kimmie?"

"She'll be along," the other woman said. "In the meantime, she asked me to give you the tour."

"The 'tour'?" Shego asked suspiciously.

"Yeah. If you're gonna be the new Number Two, you need to know your way around. And if it's all just a ruse on your part to get information, you'll want a look around, anyway. Shall we go?"

Shego gestured mockingly. "Lead on."

**RSVP**

Anne stared, horrified, as eight models writhed in a heap on top of the place where Ron had fallen. Four or five more circled the stack, looking for an opportunity to pile on.

At first, she had automatically assumed that Ron was the victim of a fresh contingent of overly enthusiastic fan-girls, each competing to get their "piece" of The Ron-man.

_The Ron-man?_ She shook her head to clear it.

But as unintentionally series as his apparent injury might have been from their group tackle, it was quickly becoming apparent that they were attempting to do him additional harm! She waded into the fray and began hauling supermodel asses off of the pile.

Monique arrived next, followed by Bonnie and Vivian, and then Zita (whose legs were a lot shorter). They stopped and stared as a topless Anne Stoppable got into a fistfight with Kate Upton.

"Help me!" she yelled at them. "Ron's on the bottom and he's hurt!"

Monique cracked her knuckles and ran forward, leaping to execute a diving crossbody full press in the style of her hero, Steel Toe, landing across three Victoria's Secret models and taking them down in a pinfall.

Bonnie tacked a redhead, vicariously imagining that it was her high school cheer squad nemesis and commenced four years of pent up payback for all of the times that Kim had one-upped her.

Vivian thrust her arms out to fire a couple of plasma pulses—and then realized that her bracers were in her workshop recharging. So she ran in swinging.

Big Mike burst onto the roof, followed by Brick who was limping and looked a bit worse for the wear. "What the hell, man!"

"Dude! I so love working here!" the former denizen of Study Hall announced.

Their smiles quickly faded as they heard the sound of an automatic being slide-cocked followed by the report of a single round being fired into the air.

Everyone froze in place.

And turned to look as the diminutive Hispanic girl stepped forward, brandishing a small Glock.

"Everybody step away from the boyfriend!" she ordered.

She held their attention for just two seconds more before everyone returned to the conflict and imploded as a writhing ball of bodies.

**RSVP**

Over a dozen rooms on the tour, so far, and most of them were either bedrooms, bathrooms, or walk-in closets.

The next room was different, however. Adrena Lynn ushered her into a room with computer monitors, alarm systems, and communications gear.

Shego stepped over to a table holding three screens in a row. One showed an interior of an old lair up in the Rocky Mountains. Another a pan-and-scan of the grounds outside this mansion. The third was a long range zoom of the entrance to Ron's warehouse. Distracted, she didn't immediately turn at the sound of a door opening behind her.

Changing her appearance from Adrena Lynn back to her own, Kim got careless. She did it while opening the door to the closet behind Shego. The sound forced her to hurry so she grabbed the first ray-gun on the left without paying close attention to the storage room's full inventory.

Or the possibility that anyone might have rifled through the inventory since Adrena Lynn last checked.

It certainly never would have occurred to her that her Nana might have sneaked in with her new husband just to borrow the Rejuvinator ray for a moment and, by doing so, left things a little out-of-order when they slipped back out, a good forty-five years younger!

So she only thought she had the Truth Ray powered up and pointed at her nemesis before Shego had even begun to turn around.

**RSVP**

"Eight centimeters," one of the nurses called. "I think we have a breech!"

The doctor began to swear, a response that Hirotaka did not find at all reassuring.

**RSVP**

Elizabeth Director arrived on the scene to see Zita Flores riding the shoulders of Adriana Lima and attempting to pistol whip Amber Valletta.

Brick Flagg had Miranda Kerr in a headlock while Big Mike had Brooklyn Decker and Bar Refaeli in similar holds, one arm each. Both were grinning like idiots despite being scratched, bitten, and repeated punched in the kidneys.

Sasha Pivovarova and Natalia Vodianova were sitting on Monique Jenkins and holding on for dear life as she repeatedly tried to buck them off.

Bonnie was turning beet red and applying a double "titty twister" to Candice Swanepoel and Alessandra Ambrosio—one boob each—as Cintia Dicker increased the pressure on the choke-hold she had around the former Queen B's neck.

Vivian was holding off a quartet of lovelies with a series of_te chiang_ or roundhouse kicks.

Heather and Britina were out cold.

The former head of Global Justice was charging her stun watch when the pile of writhing models began to tremble in counterpoint to the thrashing of shapely limbs. A moment later it exploded, bodies flying everywhere like soft, curvy shrapnel from a "girl grenade".

A lone figure stood at the center of the "blast zone."

Ron Stoppable.

He trembled.

He began to shake.

He flung his head back and his arms wide.

"Ahhhhhh…booya-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" he chortled. "Are the ladies wanting some fun? Well, the Mad Dog has come to play!" And with another gooney bird laugh, he ran to meet a trio of Eastern Bloc beauties, ducking their fists and goosing their rears as he dodged between them.

**RSVP**

_The room was white._

_Very, very white!_

_As was the bed._

_And the chair beside the bed._

_And the small table on the other side of the bed._

_The woman in the bed was white, as well. As was her hair._

_She was sitting up and holding a baby in her arms._

_The cloth swaddling the child was white as was the infant itself._

_Except for a faint tinge of pink that barely showed in the baby's face._

_The only other color in the room was the blue of her eyes._

_Bright blue._

_They seemed to glow with an inner light that grew in brightness and intensity as she looked up and saw him._

_She smiled. Beatific. The smile of the Madonna._

_"Ron-sama. Come and hold your daughter…"_

**RSVP**

Dr. Amy Hall was fuming as she punched the number into the satellite phone and waited for Professor Dementor to answer. "All of that work!" she ranted. "All of that time lost!"

She ground her teeth as the phone began to ring at the other end. Finally he picked up and she began yelling before he could even finish saying: "This is Otto Demenz…"

"You idiot!" she shrieked. "I give you one simple task! One, solitary errand!" She ignored the one little detail that the errand involved a delivery to her location halfway around the world. "And what did you do?"

Dementor's voice continued speaking as if her rant was nothing more than a rhetorical question: "…I um zorry zat I um not at der home, right now; but if you vill be leafing me a mezzage at der beeping zound…"

"Oh, I'll be leaving you a message, all right, Demento!" DNAmy growled, restarting her rant. "I just opened the cloning tanks and do you know what I found in my first batch?"

**RSVP**

_She was cool to his touch._

_Not cold, exactly, but cool enough to concern him._

_And then there was the deathly pallor of her skin. And the whiteness of her hair._

_But she felt very solid in his embrace and he crawled into bed and lay with her, pressing his body to hers, hoping to share his warmth with her._

_And missing her touch very much._

_"Are—are you dead, Yori-chan?" he asked quietly._

_"No, my love. I have just been…away…for a very long time…" she answered thoughtfully._

_He started to cry. "I was sure that you were dead…I didn't…if I had known…I would have moved heaven and earth…"_

_She laid a cool finger across his lips. "Hush, Saiai. I knew that I was alive and it took me this long to move heaven and earth to come back to you. We are together, now; nothing else matters." She pulled back the wrap to reveal a sleeping infant. "This is your daughter, koishii..."_

_"Our daughter," he corrected. "She's beautiful!"_

_"Hai."_

_"Just like her mother."_

_Yori giggled. "She has her father's eyes."_

_At that moment, the sleeping child opened her eyes. Bright blue, glowing orbs gazed up at her father and she broke into a toothless grin._

_Ron felt as if his heart would burst with happiness. "My…my…little…" He turned to his wife. "What are we going to name her?'_

_"What would you like to name her my love? Perhaps something American?"_

_He shook his head. "She is far too beautiful for a barbarian name. But…love…what are the Japanese words for love?" He clutched his head. "Ah! This is all so sudden!" He grinned ferociously. "I'm a dad!"_

_"Hai," she agreed, grinning back at him. She reached up and pulled his face down to hers and kissed him gently. "I have had more time to think on this," she whispered. "Perhaps…Ren?"_

_"Ren?" he echoed. "Ren Stoppable?" He grinned. "Really?"_

_She smiled and nodded. "If you like. Ren can mean 'romance' or 'love'. It also means 'water lilly'."_

_"Water lilly?"_

_"Hai. More specifically: 'lotus'."_

_"Ohhhhh! Man! I must be dreaming!"_

**RSVP**

"It's a nightmare," the mad (and now very angry) geneticist rasped, her voice hoarse after her screaming tirade at Dementor's answering machine. "And I don't know what to do about it!"

Her satellite phone beeped as the battery died and the connection was lost.

"Well then, let me make a suggestion," one of the clones said. "I'm hungry. How about some food?"

"Dude," another clone addressed the first, "we're all hungry. Because we're...like, you…"

And you're like us," added the third.

"Because we're, like, clones," the fourth summed up.

All four turned and looked at her with…with…_that_ expression! She hated it four years ago and seeing it now—at this time of overwhelming frustration and exasperation—didn't make it any better. In fact, it was _literally_ four times worse, now.

"You have got to be kidding me!" she growled.

All four shook their heads in unison.

"Note serious faces," the quartet of Ron Stopables answered in unison.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Really? Does "Orgy of Doom" require any explanation?<strong>

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 36<strong>

KinZer0 9/2/13 . chapter 36

Its weird seeing such an entertaining story with more reviews, but I guess there's too many people like me who don't rev every chapter.. Cabt wait for the nect chapter brosauce

**_I'm assuming you meant to say "without more reviews" and, yes, I really wish I was getting more reader feedback. When I'm in rewrite mode, it's easy to crank out a re-edited chapter every couple of days (mostly). Now that I'm back to creating complete chapters with all new material, it's harder and slower. I confess that I am more motivated to stay up late, skip lunches, or sacrifice time on my holidays and weekends when I'm getting more reviews & feedback. When it's less? I have other writing projects that promise more (financially) rewarding returns. This I do for fun. And it's more fun when the readers are more engaged. I have several regulars here who post comments or reviews for most if not all chapters and I dearly appreciate them. Others post here and there and that's cool. But, c'mon you lurkers out there who never comment: surely an occasional review is worth the Ronalicious goodness that now is the equivalent of 4 novels in word-count. More reviews actually do equal less time between updates. Word. R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 93/13 . chapter 36_

This is not going to go well, on so many fronts.

CB73

**_Oh, you are soooo right, CB! It's the equivalent of weaponizing the famous Stoppable pants-dropping factor and multiplying it by a factor of five. And that's just the clone issue! R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 93/13 . chapter 36_

We've been waiting how many months for this update...months and months of speculation as to what-will-happen-next...and *THIS* is what the author gives us?

Easily. Worth. Every. Second. Of. Waiting!

Why? Let me count the ways.

First, the author continues to twist and turn the standard tropes and clichés of behavior on their ear. Zita's failing to get the supermodels to back off and the image of a construction worker struggling to get a crazed supermodel in a headlock are but two more prominent examples.

Second, Kim fooling Shego during the tour like she did underscores this ain't our normal KP, a point that needs reminding every now and then.

Finally, the ending of the chapter. The horror, oh the horror!

Awaiting the next dose of madness.

**_Glad you liked it U. Because I need to make another rewriting pass through all of the chapters so it will be a while before Chapter 37. Kidding! Kidding! I think... R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 93/13 . chapter 36 _

"For I am a healer and that is what I do."- Dr. Crane  
>"And WE are PANTSERS..."- Cliff<br>"THAT is what WE do."- Norm [Frasier runs]

Good chapter. So let's see if I got this straight, not the whole chapter mind you. Ron's up on his "house". He's also with Yori (alt. universe?) and there are 4 clones of Ron. The song "Slim Shady" comes to mind. Fuji? The POW from McHale's Navy? Valleta is spelled with two "l's", Adrenna Lynn has no "e" Ren a nod to Renee Stevens, aka Christy Carlson Ramano?

Okay, this is the review from several chapters back. Unfortunately I don't recall what. (Ch. 33): Should it read, "It wasn't unusual for Ron Stoppable…." So Ron didn't faint. Nuts. I liked that part where Shego's at the grave yard. At least Vivian wasn't trying to pants Ron. Really, Yori is more interested in sex, than what just happened? And she calls herself Ron's wife. While I like Ron as being goofy, and slightly dim-witted, I like this Ron as well. Kind of reminds me of how Ron was during that Christmas episode where he went to defeat Drakken by himself, but a little smarter and less goofy.

You know as I'm reading this, I'm seeing that not only is Ron changing and evolving, but the girls are too. Shego is becoming nicer and more caring as is Bonnie. Yeah there personalities might not completely change, and I hope they don't, it's interesting to see how Shego and Bonnie have developed caring emotions after being around Ron. In high school, Bonnie wouldn't have cared that Ron almost had his bell rung, and now she does. I don't think its high school I think it's more being around Ron.

Goggled? I think sweat dropped works better. Could we get a translator as to what Doctor Dementer is saying? Most of the time I can't make heads or tails what he's saying. They have? Hmm, well to a certain degree they have, as they are looking forward to seeing Kim again. After all it appears that they were much closer to Kim than Amelia was, so it would look that way. Frankly I was just concerned about their well-being. Thanks for the explanation. I do look forward to yelling "Mash potato" when it does happen. Well, you did mention MEGAS, so I figured you did.

Well, by following the real version of harem, you would be rebelling against the common held beliefs here, but this is your fic. As for canon characters, you could have Smash Mouth pop up some where. Have them standing around in the background observing what's going on or better yet, have Christy Carlson Romano, Will Friedle, Tahj Mowry, John DiMaggio and Nicole Sullivan hanging around in the background.

**_1. Not so much an alternate universe as the unconscious mind link that he shares with Yori. While Ron is unconscious (head bang during tackle) he's with his comatose wife (remember his waking dreams?) and meanwhile ole Zorpox is gonna pick up some slack in the waking world._**

**_2. Alas, no; more like Mount Fuji, although you'd have to ask the writers of that particular episode as the quote is lifted directly from the series. (Pretty sure it's not a reference to the camera film-pre-digital-either.)_**

**_3. Amber and Adrena are now fixed. Thanks! Wanna be my Beta?_**

**_4. Nope. Ren is just a Japanese name that can mean love or water lilly (lotus); both of which seem appropriate here. Plus Ren & Ron Stoppable have a nice matched sound._**

**_5. Fixed the "It wasn't unusual..." sentence in Chap. 33. Like I said: wanna be my Beta?_**

**_6. I chalk it up more to exhaustion than an unmanly swoon._**

**_7. Shego is going through an arc of change in these stories just as Ron (believe it or not) went through an arc of change in the series. I mean, Kim is pretty much the same girl from episode 1 to the last episode of the series except she gets over the hotties and wakes up to Ron. (Although Ron was almost as oblivious to Kim up until the moodulator incident). But Ron learned to overcome his phobias (especially the monkey one), learned to communicate with giant insects, got his very own villainous nemesis, learned monkey kung fu and became the chosen one...etc., etc., etc. Kim was the baseline, Ron was the guy always running the obstacle course. Now we get to see that Shego isn't just a one-dimensional bad "guy". Drakken, either. And yeah, Ron and all of the Middleton High alumni are growing up and maturing a little. Of course, I'm still trying to keep a fair share of the original "Ron-ness" for our maturing Mr. Stoppable. He can still appear to miss some of the social cues and be a bit of a goof but, away from the long shadow cast by his former partner, he is stepping up._**

**_8. Yeah Vivian's a little miffed at Ron in Chap 33-as are most of the girls. And Yori has been lost in the "fog" for months, only her single-minded obsession for finding her way back to her husband has made it possible for her to transcend the barriers of time and space to reconnect to him...so her intense focus on intimacy and a physical connection might border on the obsessive right now._**

**_9. I'm sorry: you've lost me on the "sweat dropped" comment. Read Dementor's lines out loud (or whisper them) and I think his meaning comes right through._**

**_10. The discovery that the "real" Kim _****_may_****_ be a "supervillain" hasn't reached the girls in Big Daddy's stronghold so, of course, they're going to be happy to be turned over to her. Amelia-besides not being a former, fellow cheerleader-sees Big Daddy as her means to Ron's heart as she believes that catching Duff Killigan will set her apart from the rest of the herd. She's ambitious and already demonstrated that she'll put in the extra work for getting his attention. I feel sorry for B.D. because Amelia views him as a "tool" for her ambitions._**

**_11. Harem, schmarem: we'll see what we call this confused jumble of alliances, relationships, and fulfilled and unrequited feelings when the dust finally settles. (And count the bodies...)_**

**_12. I know who "Smashmouth" is...but I don't recognize any of those other names... (LOL Just kidding!) R~13_**

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><p><em>King of Anachronisms 94/13 . chapter 36_

Ron clones? Look out world, the Ron-man has multiplied and ready to wreak havoc. Also my final five are Bonnie, Yori, Yoshi, Zita, and Hana. Yes, Hana. Super-tot FTW

_**Hail to the King, Baby! Show of hands, folks: who has ever seen a movie, show, or read a story/book about cloning where it's ever turned out to be a good idea? Uh huh, uh huh! Now add in the "Ron" factor and multiply. Wreak havoc? Cry havok! And loose the Rons of...MORE! R~13**_

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><p><em>masterbow 910/13 . chapter 36 _

Ah my idea has come and it was awesome thank you. Oh god here comes the clones here comes the clones

**_You're welcome. And, hey: there are only four clones...so far... R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 910/13 . chapter 36_

Now we have a baby, four extra Ron's, a whole bunch of wiggling super models (not wearing much BTW) a conniving anti-Kim. Damnnnnnnn Rippey you're really getting into this.

ST-103

**_Not yet...but I will eventually. ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>DROdd 910/13 . chapter 36 _

Great,I love Ron,s harem stories,I hope Riplakish will do more,My Other favorite character other then Ron,is Zuko from Avatar:the last airbender,I hope Riplakish do a Zuko,s harem story.  
>My top 5 Girls for Ron are Kim,Shego,Yori,Tara and Bonnie.<br>I hope each girl have a full lemon with Ron.

**_Thanks for the vote of support DROdd! Alas, I only have a passing acquaintance with the Avatar series so I'm not really equipped to do any kind of serious fan fiction there. And I think I've already mentioned that the RSVP saga will probably be my last...assuming I can see it through to the end. But I hope to go out with a hell of a bang. (No double-entendre necessarily intended). R~13_**

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><p><strong><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 36 . 111/14_**

Nice chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Thanks! R~13**_


	37. Friendly Fire

**Author's/Notes 1****_: With this chapter the RSVP Saga passes the 440,000 word mark! Plus, RSVP I & RSVP II are tied at 369 Reviews each! Yet I still can't seem to score a nomination for a "Fannie"...le sigh..._**

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><p><em><strong>The votes for the "Final Five":<strong>_

**_Shego – 16 votes_**

**_Bonnie – 16 votes_**

**_Tara – 14 votes_**

**_Vivian – 12 votes_**

**_Yori – 12 votes_**

**_Electronique – 11 votes_**

**_Amelia – 6 votes_**

**_Betty – 7 votes_**

**_Joss – 6 votes_**

**_Monique – 6 votes_**

**_Yoshi – 5 votes_**

**_Shaula Lesath – 3 votes_**

**_Zita – 2 vote_**

**_Hana – 1 vote_**

**_The Ghost of Warmonga – 1 vote_**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> Fan. Fiction. ('Nuff said.)

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><p><strong>Chapter 37 – Friendly Fire<strong>

It was like there were four Ron Stoppables instead of just one!

No matter which way the supermodels turned, HE was there! And there was no escape: bottoms were goosed, breasts were fondled, nipples were tweaked, necks were nibbled, bellies were licked, navels were poked, ears—OMG—ears were _tongue-raped!_

The hunters had suddenly become the hunted!

Ron's allies were a little slow to recognize the battle's turn and suffered a few incidents of "friendly fire" before they were able to withdraw from the field.

'Honk, honk!"

"Ronald!"

"Sorry, Betty-D! Nice bazookas, by the way; always wanted to test-fire 'em!"

"Stoppable! What the hell?"

"Nice glutes, Bon Bon! Ya got badical cleavage both coming and going!"

"Holy crap!" Big Mike exclaimed. "I heard of it but I ain't actually never seen it!"

"We're seein' it now," Brick confirmed with a grin. "Stopps is wearing Zita like a hat! Or mebbe a sombrero!"

The Hispanic hottie bobbed above the fray, peppering the air with strings of unintelligible oaths and profanities. But she was grinning like a demented hyena.

"Holy—" Monique shrieked. "That's not what 'off the rack' means, Ron!"

There is a saying that the best battle plans go up in smoke the moment that the first shot is fired. In this instance, the hypnotic programming that Professor Dementor had instilled in the minds of his supermodel strike-force was crumbling. Understandably, nothing could long stand firm in the face of the awesomeness made up of the body and battle experience of Ron Stoppable…currently being driven by a very motivated Zorpox the Conquerer.

And ooooohhhh! So many jiggly bits all around him just so ripe for…the _conquering!_

"Ah ha, ah ha, ah boooooooooyahahahahaha!"

**RSVP**

"Is this important?" one of the Ron-clones asked as he held up a broken circuit board. He had instinctively gutted the cloning machine the way he always neutralized any doomsday device he might run across in a villain's lair.

DNAmy continued to press the button on her Agonizer™ remote as she poured over the readouts from the most recent clone-sequencing. "I don't understand!" she screeched in frustration. "Why isn't this working? The Agonizer™ should have brought you to your knees the first time I pressed the button!"

"Have you checked the batteries?" another Ron-clone asked, helpfully.

"I just put fresh ones in less than an hour ago!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Maybe you put them in backwards," a third Ron suggested. "Want me to check for you?"

"No!' the geneticist yelled. "The little red light comes on each time I press the button! All of you should have been unconscious more than ten minutes ago!"

"How come?" a couple of them asked—she wasn't sure which two.

"There is a juncture for the occipital nerve at the base of the skull—" She suddenly threw up her hands. "You probably don't even know what I'm talking about!"

"Sure," they all said. "That's where Wade had us chipped."

"WHAT!"

**RSVP**

Ron Stoppable—the original, that is—was still in the mysterious White Room with his beloved wife Yori and their infant daughter. He wasn't sure how long he had gazed into the eyes of his daughter Ren. At some point, however, it occurred to him to ask questions. Like…

"When was she born?"

"She has not been born, yet, Husband," Yori told him. "But it will be soon, now."

**RSVP**

Meanwhile, back on Señor Senior Senior's island…

"Ten centimeters! She really wants to have this baby!" the nurse exclaimed.

"Not yet," the doctor grunted. "If I don't get the baby turned…"

"BP dropping!" the other nurse announced.

"Mother or child?"

"Both!"

The doctor sighed. "Prep a tray. Richardson retractor and bladder blade. Clamps: needle drive, kocher and hemostats. Adson, Russian, and pick-up forceps with teeth. Scissors. Staplers. Scalpel with a number ten blade. And inventory our patient's blood supplies; whole as well as plasma."

Hirotaka read the anxiety on the faces of Señor Senior, Senior's medical staff and felt a chill run down the length of his body.

"A caesarian, Doctor?" the first nurse asked. "Do we really have the facilities here?"

"If I can't get this baby turned, we may have no choice."

**RSVP**

Motor Ed tightened the last bolt securing the secondary thrusters to the rearward sections of the vehicle's frame.

While deeply satisfied with the redesign of the primary and secondary engines of what he intended to be the ultimate mode of transportation, he was frustrated with the amount of time it was taking to acquire the parts he needed while concealing the project from "Red" who had taken his Aunty Z

****RSVP****

Shego had walked into the lion's den—make that _lioness's den_—with her eyes wide open.

It was a calculated risk. And, although recent events had her feeling more reckless now, she wasn't inclined to be outright stupid. She was hyperaware as her "guide" took her on a tour of Kim's temporary HQ.

She had dealt with Adrena Lynn a couple of times over the years and Kim Possible more times than she could count. She knew their body language and how each carried herself—in a fight and out.

Even aside from the intel on the gemstone of Aviarius that the former redhead carried in the deep cup of her navel, Shego quickly noticed that the still drenched-looking Adrena Lynn, fresh from her dunking in the pool outside, _did not actually drip water on the carpet_ as she walked. Nor did she seem inclined to pick up a towel from one of the many bathrooms they passed on the tour.

So Shego wasn't particularly surprised to see Kim Possible pointing a ray gun at her when she turned around from looking at the security monitors. She had, in fact, caught the reflection in the glass surface of the monitor showing her nemesis pulling the weapon out of the closet behind her and transforming herself back into her current appearance while her Shego's back was turned.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and, with a look of bored disdain, said: "So, Kimmie; you're a back-shooter now?"

Kim—already a little tweaked that her prisoner didn't seem particularly cowed—nearly lost it. "Why does everybody assume that I'm a back-shooter!* Getting the drop on you does _not make me a back-shooter!_"

Shego arched an eyebrow. "Getting the drop? Really? I already walked in here and offered myself up to you. You don't have to _pretend_ that you've captured me." She spread her hands in a dismissive gesture. "I'm already here."

"You're up to something! I know it!" Kim fumed. "That's why I'm going to give you a taste of your very own Truth Ray!" Her left eye began to twitch as she remembered the humiliation that she had suffered when Drakken and Shego had used the ray on her back in high school.

Shego had a brief "oh shit" moment as she contemplated her adversary sussing out her real purpose in coming here. But then she looked down and felt a smile of relief cross her face.

"Sorry, Punkin', but before you go and disintegrate me you might want to check your armament. That's not Doctor D's Truth Ray."

It was a trick. An old one, even. But there had been more than one ray gun in the closet and she had been in a hurry…

Kim glanced down for a brief second before locking her gaze on Shego again.

And Shego saw the truth in Kim's eyes despite her attempt to mask it.

Kim had grabbed the wrong weapon!

Kim knew it!

And Shego knew that Kim knew it!

And Kim knew that Shego knew that Kim knew it.

(And so on...)

And then a thought occurred to Kim.

She knew that it wasn't the Truth Ray that she had Adrena steal a couple of weeks back. But she still recognized the odd grip with the maroon, heart-shaped barrel. She glanced back down to make sure that the safety was off and that her thumb was actually on the trigger.

Shego saw the small victorious expression flit across her captor's face and, as Kim's eyes dropped back down for that instant's appraisal, Shego made her move.

**RSVP**

"Vat are you doink?" Dementor bellowed from the roof access doorway. "Dere is chust von of him! Und de rest is chust girls!"

The supermodels faltered in their attempts to retreat. After all, a number of the other women had pulled back. And their target was just a man…

…wasn't he?

And every supermodel worth her salt was more than adept at handling men. _Any_ number of men.

And this was just _one_ man…

…wasn't he…?

"Ah-ha ah-ha ah-boo-yahahahahahahahaha!"

MAYBE NOT!

And then...

...there was the sound of music!

It suddenly fell upon their ears.

From above!

All eyes looked up, turned about, focused on a small simian form crouched atop a chimney.

A monkey.

With a portable DVD player.

Playing a jaunty, bouncy tune.

It was a tune that many mothers would have recognized instantly.

"Oh my God," Britina muttered dazedly. The teen pop sensation was not a mother but she had been a babysitter. "Who's playing _The Flippies_?"

"Fippies!" Hana shrieked, bounding out of the enclosed monkey habitat on the far side of the roof. Pouring out behind her followed a black tide of _keikobi_ wearing monkeys. In moments, the furry army was swarming the supermodels while the toddler clapped her hands and hopped about, coincidentally mirroring the screaming, Watusi-dancing, glam-girls who were frantic to get away now.

But it was too late.

**RSVP**

"What's the matter, Possible? Afraid to engage in the ultimate battle of wits?" The annoying woman folded her arms and smirked.

Larry Possible frowned as he considered Charlotte's challenge. "You say Kim set this up?"

"Yes. So that's two against one. Odds not good enough for you?"

"But it's not my birthday," Kim's cousin protested. "Why would she go to all of the trouble of setting up another RPG?* I aced the last one so there's hardly going to be any challenge in a repeat scenario."

Charlotte scowled. Considering that she and Justine Flanner were nearly an even match in the Frowny Face department, this was no small accomplishment. "The first time out was merely the opportunity to take your measure. Now that she knows that you can handle a Class-C villain with a couple of henchmen, she wants to see if you can take on a global game of villainous chess and really prove your mettle."

"And what would be my incentive to wasting my time on an RPG rematch in my cousin's lame-o sphere of operations?"

"Well, let's see, Larry…" Her voice fairly dripped with sarcasm as the held up a succession of fingers as she went down the list. "Playing with a veritable storehouse of realistic props and gear. Taking on a challenge that's so complex that I don't believe that even _you_ can bring to a victorious conclusion. Matching wits with a superior adversary…" She grinned at him in unmistakable challenge. "And…" Her smile grew even wider. "…a chance to win a date with the girl of your dreams if you actually are able to beat the odds and somehow pull a win out of impossible circumstances." She batted her eyes at him, hoping to underscore that last incentive.

Larry's smile grew in turn as his thoughts turned to the delectable Bonnie Rockwaller…a fair prize for his victory in the coming RPG simulations.

**RSVP**

The very second that Kim glanced down again, Shego flicked a tiny green ball of plasma off of the end of her finger, buying another second's worth of distraction on top of that, giving her the time to snap a kick at the former heroine's midsection.

Kim bent at the waist to take the force out of the kick, putting the weapon she held within reach of the former villainess. The short, heart-shaped barrel ended up pointing at the ceiling as the two women struggled for possession of the weapon.

**RSVP**

"Let me—"

"Us," another clone corrected.

"Right. Let _us_ get this straight," another Ron continued, giving DNAmy another dose of "Serious Face". "You cloned us to help you dig under Mount Yamanouchi so you could retrieve your petrified boyfriend—"

"Monkeyfist," another Ron clarified.

"And you figured that a bunch of Ron's was the best way to do that?"

As the geneticist nodded, another clone jumped up and started looking at his arms and legs as if he might be covered in crawling insects. "Aw, man! Did you like alter our DNA in any way to make us better diggers?"

"Aaiiee!" another yelled. "Are my hands going to turn into gopher paws? Tell me you didn't mess with our Ron-ness!"

Four very angry faces turned to her now: "Serious Face" was so in the rear view mirror now.

**RSVP**

Big Daddy Brotherson glanced out of the window of his home office and staggered back a couple of steps.

_She was doing it on purpose_, he thought with a groan.

Oh sure! First it had been the sunbathing out by the pool.

Except, her lounge chair was always positioned right outside of his bedroom window.

In the mornings, that is!

He was a late sleeper while she always seemed to be up at the crack of dawn.

She was industrious.

Driven…

By the time he was out of bed, she was out by the pool, but even closer to his bedroom window than she was to the water's edge.

And turned lengthways so that he had a panoramic view of her long, lean body stretched out in all of its bronzed glory!

It was torture!

And he suspected—no—he _knew_ that _she_ knew it!

And that wasn't all! By the time he had repaired to his home office by midmorning, she had relocated, too!

Again to right outside his window.

Where she proceeded to do Yolates! Or whatever it was called when you combined Yoga and Pilates…

So!

Much!

Stretching!

And…_arching_…ooohhhhhh.

He was constantly turning up the air conditioning to cool down his hot flashes!

And then she had taken it one step further.

First it was her swimsuit top.

It came off.

_Well,_ he'd thought, _it wasn't like he hadn't been to the occasional topless beach…_

But her bikini bottoms followed a day after!

And when he tried to say something to her, she had said something about tan-lines and then asked if it made him uncomfortable and did he want her to…cover up?

Oh God!

No.

But it was driving him crazy!

And now it wasn't just nude sunbathing. It was…nude…_Yolates!_

He felt another round of heart palpitations coming on.

That was it! She was trying to kill him!

She would just keep upping the torment until he had a heart attack or a stroke!

Of course, now that she had no more clothing to remove, how could she possibly top naked Yolates?

As if in answer to this last question, she was suddenly standing right there on the other side of his desk, drinking an iced tea to cool down from the heat outside.

The glass in her long, tapered fingers was wet with condensation and the moisture that beaded and ran down the outside of its transparent surface matched the rivulets of sweat that decorated her burnished body like a fine lacework of liquid jewels. Moisture trickled down fleshy slopes and drooled from her pouting navel, causing him to start perspiring, himself.

And then she proved that a gorgeous, wet, naked woman could take it to the next level without speaking or coming any closer.

She lowered the glass from her full, perfect lips. Brought the ice-filled tumbler across her front and then rubbed its cold, outer surface against her nipples.

First the left one.

Then the right.

Then she took another drink, tipping the glass back for a long swallow.

Condensation from the glass pattered across the tops of her breasts and her nipples were large and engorged now.

Big Daddy Brotherson was devastated.

He sank down on rubbery legs and collapsed into his chair with a groan.

Her eyes did not seem to notice but she finally spoke.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Amelia?" he said hoarsely.

"I want to go shopping."

"Shopping? For clothes?"

She shook her head slowly. Took another drink. Moved the glass down and rubbed it against her tummy, cooling herself down…down…dow—

"Take me shopping at HenchCo," she cooed.

**RSVP**

"So, what is this place?" Ron asked his beloved.

"I do not know, husband." She snuggled against him. "I wandered in the mists and the fog and the darkness for so long. At times I could sense you…almost see you. At other times I caught glimpses of those around you, those where were close to you. And…" She turned her face away.

"And?" he asked, turning her face back to his.

"I—I found that there were some—two mostly—that I could 'touch'…and…through them…I could feel…and touch…you…"

"What do you mean?"

And slowly, hesitantly, she began to tell him of the times that she was with him, through the dreams and then the flesh of others.

When she was done, he pulled her closer and held her wordlessly for a time.

"After the last time I was with you, you banished me to a white room…" she added eventually. "I know that I shouldn't have stayed so long, but I was lonely for you, Beloved. I hoped that you would eventually see the truth of my presence in her eyes but you did not. And all that I accomplished for my stubbornness was to bring more suffering to all three of us. I have left that white room so you must go back and free Kyoko Yoshiko as soon as you can!"

"I will. But I must ask, can you come to me through her…again? Or through others?" He slapped his forehead. "Why would you need to? Just tell me where you are and I will come find you!"

She smiled but it was a sad smile. "I do not know where I am…except I am _here_. When I fled her mind and body, I woke up _here_." She looked down. "I was holding my daughter. I do not know what or where this place is, except it is not the fog or the mists or the darkness. Perhaps it is Heaven's Waiting Room. Perhaps, now that I have found you and you have found me, this is where the spirits have made a waiting place for us until you can find us in the flesh…"

"And I will move heaven and earth to find you, Yori!" he said. "I promise you that!"

**RSVP**

The doctor stepped back and stripped off his gloves.

"BP rising to normal levels," a nurse reported. "Mother and child."

"Thank God," he exclaimed, stripping off his mask and cap as he stepped to the sink. "The baby is turned and out of distress."

"Should I put the caesarian tray away?" the other nurse asked.

"No. No…" He began washing his hands. "I think we're out of the woods, now, but I like to be prepared for any changes in circumstances." He ran a small towel under the faucet and dabbed at his face and neck. "It shouldn't be too long now." He looked around. "Maybe you should find Mr. Hirotaka and tell him that his friend appears to be out of danger."

**RSVP**

"Well…that was interesting…" Betty Director said as she stood the edge of the roof and watched the herd of supermodels fleeing down the streets below. She turned and took in the sight of her fellow compatriots and found that the sight was nearly as interesting as the sight of their retreating assailants.

The other women from the warehouse had acquitted themselves admirably in battle and she was already reassessing her picks for the Possibilities Project—primarily adding a number of names that she hadn't considered before. However, the girls would need a lot of additional training: not every foe or criminal would pose the same "threat" as a group of randy beauty queens.

In the meantime, everyone needed a shower and a change of clothes. Especially the clothes. Everyone seemed to be wearing rags: shredded shirts, torn pants, and Anne Possible seemed to only have a pair of bikini bottoms left to her.

And Ron…

He had ripped away the remains of his shirt and now stood like a Greek god in tattered cargos. He had disappeared nearly a year ago with a body that was starting to show the effects of his globetrotting adventures as well as those as a Middleton Varsity Football Legend. He had returned as a young man with additional inches to his height, chest, and biceps. These past few weeks she had noticed that he was spending time down in the area designated as the future gymnasium, working out before there were even enclosed walls and more modern workout equipment. Working off the stress, working out the frustrations, trying to take his mind off his losses, his griefs…

And preparing for the time that he would hunt Duff Killigan to bring him to justice.

That extra work was on display right now with his skin gleaming under a sheen of perspiration—not all of which was his! Scratches and bite marks were scattered across his chest, abs, and arms but he seemed unconcerned as he used the rags of his shirt to wipe his face and forearms, and then began dabbing at the smudges of dirt and dust he had picked up from rolling around on the roof.

Everyone else was staring now.

He paused as he noticed the attention. "What? Haven't you ever seen nipples before?" He grinned roguishly. "I'm seein' more than a few right now!"

There was a collective chorus of _Eeps!_ Arms crossed over bosoms. And a general exodus from the roof.

Anne Possible, who probably had the least coverage and the most incentive to leave quickly, hung back until the others had mostly cleared the exits.

One arm was draped across her spectacular breasts but, other than that, she seemed pretty _laissez-faire_ about the whole near-nudity thing. "Ronald," she said, approaching him, "we should probably talk…"

He smiled at her. There was something in his eyes that seemed a little off and his gaze seemed to rest on the swell of her bosom a few seconds longer than she would have expected from the Ron that she knew.

But his smile seemed to turn kinder and he nodded toward the exit.

"As much as you like, Annie. But, if it can wait, I'd like to get cleaned up. How about you?"

"Yes." She started to turn.

"I know it's supposed to be 'ladies first' but maybe I should lead the way." He flashed her a grin as he moved ahead of her. "Less distracting for me, you know."

She followed him to the exit feeling a little flush of pleasure at his complement. And a slightly unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach…

**RSVP**

One moment Ron Stoppable was staring at his daughter.

And the next moment she was fading from his sight.

From his grasp.

"What just happened?" he asked his beloved wife.

**RSVP**

"Would you like to hold her?" the nurse asked Hirotaka.

As he took the freshly bundled newborn into his arms he looked over at the peacefully sleeping mother. "Is Yori all right?"

The doctor nodded as he removed a fresh pair of gloves. "Aside from the persistent comatose state, she seems to be doing fine. It was a surprisingly easy birth. Amazing, even. Blood pressure is normal. Mother and child are doing just fine. Who knows, perhaps now that her pregnancy has come to full term and is finished, she might even wake up, soon."

**RSVP**

When the weapon discharged, Shego wasn't exactly sure where the barrel was pointing. The light in front of her eyes turned to a bright, warm rosy maroon with brief pulses of orange and yellow.

But that was it.

No heat or cold.

No tingling.

Nothing felt particularly different…

…until the ray gun smacked her painfully in the chest.

That was because Kim had let go of it.

The next thing she knew, her opponent was all over her!

"Oh my gawd! Shego! Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Kim was touching her solicitously. Putting her hands in more intimate zones. Rubbing…

"What are you doing?" Shego growled, pushing the redhead away.

Kim made no attempt to grab the ray gun—though she did step back in. Close.

"I—I was just checking to see if you were all right," she answered. "It looked like it hurt." She looked up and batted her eyes at her new "best friend." A hand reached out and stroked her midriff. "I'd like to make it feel…better…"

Shego took another look down at the ray gun's heart-shaped barrel. A slow smile spread across her face.

"Kimmie, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

"Just…_friendship_?"

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><p><em><strong>AN 2: * RPG (Roll Playing Game) Larry referring to the events in Larry's Birthday**_

**A/N 3: ****_* Back in chapter 14 of RSVP II._**

**A/N 4: ****_Next up: "That Kigo Chapter" (Hey, I warned you what would happen if the lurkers didn't start doing their part.)_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 37<strong>

_Guest 9/20/13 . chapter 37 _

Well, this lurker has been scared into posting out sheer terror. Good going.

**_Too late! But maybe your response can help lessen the fallout... R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 921/13 . chapter 37_

What the what?

This whole chapter is even *more* demented than the whole of book one. *Plus* the 36 chapters that preceded it!

And did I not say that making Han the jonin of simian shinobi was recipe for epic unpredictability and horror!?

Speaking of horror...four genetic duplicates of Ron? Even for Dementor, that's demented. Repairing a nuclear reactor with a hammer and chisel during meltdown is a safer move.

Demented, psychosis-inducing, and so ridiculous its impossible to look away. This storyline has it all.

So, how soon before the next update?

**_Oh, Uber...you should be far more jaded by now. And, again, I shall conveniently blame you for putting the whole Hana as monkey jonin into my toolbox of madness (just as you don't hand a chainsaw to demented redneck leather-face wearing cannibal-bad things will be a result)._**

**_Horror? I thought a couple of readers suggested cloning Ron would be a great solution to the too many girls problem. How could this not be a good thing? (grins evilly)_**

**_Has it all? Oh no. Not yet..._**

**_It will be awhile before I can write the next chapter: I've misplaced my lesbian sex manual. ;-) R~13_**

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><p>The Desert Fox 921/13 . chapter 37

Danggit Bobby. That boy ain't right. – Hank Hill

_**No, he ain't! ;-)**_

Good chapter. Zorpox has the lamest laugh of all the villains. Ah, now it makes a little bit more sense. With Ron, Yori and little Renee, er I mean Ren. The Sound of Music: starring Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer. Wait, do we even know which side of the family, Cousin Larry (smirks) belongs to? I would hazard a guess that he's on Mrs. Stoppable's side. But that's just me. Well, that was disappointing. I would've thought that he'd want Charlotte. Note: Serious Face. Something that Sirius would never do. So the models ain't staying. Drat.

**_Hmmmmm...The Sound of Music with characters from Kim Possible playing all of the parts...interesting. Maybe it will turn up in RSVP IV: The Kimarillion. Right now I'm planning on Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy making an appearance. (Sort of) Naw: Larry's gotta be from Kim's dad's side. But I think he's previously expressed an interest in Bonnie. Or maybe that's Fanon instead of Canon. Sorry about the models. Maybe they'll wander back in at some point: after all, Ron's soooo lonely... ;-)_**

1) I'll take your word for it; 2) I think I knew that, just like to have a little fun with the author; 3) No; 4) Nuts; 5) No; 6) To quote Billy Joel, "You may be right"; 7) I don't think Ron was oblivious to Tara, the writers never really bothered. Actually they never really had any girl show any real interest in Ron except for Zita (which didn't work out) and Yori (was she trying to get Kim to realize her feelings for Ron?). Actually I already knew they weren't one dimensional, two dimensional yes, but not one, ha-ha. Actually most of villains in the series aren't that bad. They have standards, morals etc. Heck I was even surprised when Drakken and Duff were upset with Kim for lying to her parents. 8) That maybe, but other ghosts, spirits etc. that I've read about or seen in on TV or in movies aren't obsessed with sex, except Tom Cruise in Ghost, but he's a putz. 9) Sweat-dropped. It's what cartoon characters, notably the Teen Titans, and Anime characters do when one character says or does something embarrassing. 10) Herd? Really? That's just not right. 11) One writer in his writing uses the term coven instead of harem. 12) They are the voice actors for: Kimberly Ann Stoppable (Even Stevens), Ronald Stoppable (Boy Meets World), Wade (Smart Guy), Dr. Drakken (Futurama, Ben Ten and Madagascar) and Shego (Secret Saturdays, Penguins of Madagascar, King of Queens and Rita Rocks).

**_8) But if Yori ('s body) is still alive, is she technically a ghost? 10) Sorry. Now I'm sufficiently "cowed". 11) Ooooooo: coven... 12) I knew that; I just like to have a little fun with the reviewer._**

Yes, I know a really long review.

**_Eh, not that long... R~13_**

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><p>CajunBear73 921/13 . chapter 37

Oh boy, from Zorpox running free (even though his 'presence' probably turned the tide of battle...) to a Kigo Ray?

**_Not a "Kigo" Ray per se, but the "Love" Ray that Wade made to use on Monique. And which quickly got out of hand. The last we saw of it was Olivia using it on Wade during the episode's end credits._**

So many tugs to the center of this tale, so many alleys open to check out in this maze of a sprawl.

**_So, no longer a sprawl but a "maze of a sprawl". Don't forget your ball of twine. And watch out for that guy with the bull's head..._**

Now to see how feelings are fulfilled or hurt, or worse.

CB73

**_Fullfilled or hurt or worse? Better isn't an option? (Checks his notes) Oh. Yep. Not really an option I guess. Never mind... R~13_**

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><p>Sentinel103 921/13 . chapter 37

Hey CB you got that fire going yet, I got the feathers and the tar...dang where is that rail road track...we need something for a rail or he's gonna get away...oh hey there Rippy uh you know I didn't think this would turn out Kigo but seeing how you're done everything else why should I be surprised. I mean Dementor using models to attack Ron and his buddies errrr friends who are girls.

I see Amelia is playing...hey how does she know about HenchCO?

ST

**_Oh, Amelia has hidden depths... R~13_**

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><p><em>Zepher327 928/13 . chapter 37_

Very nice story, read through the whole series, first i jumped into this story and was confused and didnt get very far but I gave it a 2nd chance and it rocks keep up the good work.

**_I assume you mean that you went back and read RSVP I: The Fellowship of the Ron before continuing on with this one. At least I hope so! R~13_**

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><p><em>masterbow 929/13 . chapter 37 _

wow i didnt thing you would go for that kind of kigo true its popular i thought they just try and kill ron together.

**_What makes you think that they won't still? R~13_**

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><p><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 37 . 117/14_

Nice chapter. Keep up the good work on.

_**Thanks! Sorry these reposts are taking so long! R~13**_


	38. That Kigo Chapter

**Author's/Notes: **_**The ray gun, if it wasn't quite clear, is the "Cupid Ray" from the episode "The Cupid Effect."**_

_**And, since there have been no more reader requests, etc., I am taking down the remaining request(s) from public display; ditto the votes for the Final Five, and give you less clutter at the front of the chapter(s). I will continue to consider the input up to this point (as well as any future communiques) from my fellow RSVPers but, for now, I'm streamlining the front of the chapters...**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> See all other disclaimers on this site. What they say.

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><p><strong>Chapter 38 – That Kigo Chapter<strong>

It wasn't like she hadn't done a little experimentation.

First, in college…

And then there was the period after she had first gone "bad".

Threesomes.

Foursomes.

Parties with orgies.

And the occasional, same-gender seduction to gain access to safes, documents, jewelry boxes…

But she retained an enthusiastic bias for boys. Or, rather, men…as "boys" suggested an unhealthy attraction to the underaged.

_Like Stoppable? _

_What? He's street-legal!_

_Now…_

_And just stop it! Stop it! Don't think about—I do this and I can walk away without looking back._

_Head in the game, Go-girl!_

Some time back Shego had finally decided that she was primarily heterosexual with a healthy streak of bi-curious on the side.

There had been a couple of relationships that might have gone somewhere, once upon a time. Betty Director…she shook her head. What a train wreck that would have probably turned into!

And then there was the "Kigo" gossip.

That's what they called it.

Slow News Days: the press was always looking for filler when there weren't enough front page stories. Celebrities, speculation, and salaciousness—guess…make it up…be creative. Pure teen heroine? Evil villainous vixen? Catfights!

Kim and Shego!

Kigo!

All that repressed sexual frustration…

(Well, that part was somewhat true: just because Mr. Dildo was intimate with her G-spot on a regular basis, it didn't address the human need for the touch of another, some skin on skin contact. And though she couldn't speak for the princess, she was such a tight-ass goody-goody that she probably was still a virgin.)

…sexual frustration being channeled through all of those hot, sweaty encounters with the grappling and holding and even the hitting…(How many times had she heard some guy drooling over her and saying: "I'd really like to _hit _that!")…that "everyone" knew was really an acceptable way to blow off some steam while getting in a few good gropes…

Shego snorted. _Yeah, right…_

Still, here she was, hours later, in a rumpled, king-sized bed.

All sweaty.

Waiting for her heart-rate to slow back down.

Which was taking more time than it should.

Probably thanks to the pair of emerald eyes that were staring at her with undisguised adoration…

…and naked lust.

**RSVP**

Naked lust.

That's what Big Daddy Brotherson felt each and every day as his _protégé _spent hours in the new makeshift gym (the indoor arboretum with the plants and potted trees moved around to make room for the exercise and training equipment). After a week of watching her work every single muscle group on the elliptical, weight bench, treadmill, and Bowflex until she was slick with sweat and and panting with exhaustion, he swore off the torture of surreptitiously watching her on the security cameras scattered throughout his mansion.

The very next day she insisted that he come down and spot her during the gymnastic part of her daily regimen.

She wasn't as smooth and practiced as Kim Possible-whose tumbling skills were honed by years of cheerleading and had been on display during his previous run-ins with the teenage do-gooder-but Amelia was fit and a quick study and worked tirelessly at improving her skills as she moved from the horizontal bar to the balance beam to the rings to the pommel horse to the parallel bars to the vault to the uneven bars, tumbling and cartwheeling about, climbing the rope and dropping back down to the trampoline to bounce back into a series of handstands, flips and a directed power tumble to where he stood, agog, rising like a tanned and toned phoenix, but from water rather than fire as she reached for a tower to dab at the cascades of perspiration the ran down her flesh in squiggly rivulets of liquid sex.

Her sports bra and boy shorts left vast expanses of skin on display and were so form-fitting as to leave little to the imagination of the even less that it actually covered.

She hadn't actually slept with him, yet.

As in euphemistic sense of the word.

There were some conjugal naps...though Brotherson found their sharing a bed to be anything but restful while Amelia seemed to enter REM sleep effortlessly and arise several hours later fully relaxed and recharged for the hours ahead.

She teased him constantly with the suggestion that he might...eventually...get to do something more than look...

...and yearn...

But, so far, the crux of their relationship was built around her preparation to find Duff Killigan and bring him to justice.

The justice that Brotherson deserved for all of the damage that the mad golfer had done to him.

But, for Amelia, he knew, her primary motivation was to prove herself worthy to Ron Stoppable.

Not a fat, balding man more than twice her age.

He knew he was playing the fool.

That she was using him for a base of operations and to fund her training and intended mission(s).

But he paid for the gym equipment and the personal trainer and special dietary chef and the hi-tech body armor and weaponry from HenchCo, anyway.

Because, as long as he was playing the fool, she continued to give him a front row seat to the Greatest Show on Earth!

"Thank you, Daddy," she murmured in his ear as she gave him a quick, moist hug. "I wanted someone close by in case I fell and hurt myself."

"I-I'm glad you're all right," he stammered as he realized that she had marked his shirt with her earthy scent.

She stretched, arms straining upward and her belly pulling taut. "Oh, wow! I'm kind of sore," she decided, slowly relaxing back down and looking up into his strained gaze. "Daddy? Would you mind giving me a rubdown?" She looked down shyly. "If you're not too busy with work and stuff..."

_Oh dear God!_

**RSVP**

Señor Senior, Senior was in a quandary.

He could feel that his time was growing short and yet there was so much yet to do.

So much yet unresolved.

His wife had gone, years before him.

His son was an idiot and a fool and was now in jail where he would probably spend many years if not decades.

His adopted daughter, he suspected, was _not_ the young woman he had agreed to make his heir and partner.

Oh, she would likely be successful in her plans to take over the world…at least a goodly part of it.

And she might still prove to be an honorable and somewhat benevolent ruler and criminal mastermind.

But the business with the young pregnant girl still bothered him.

Under the gentlemen's villainous code, one might take one's enemies prisoner.

But noncombatants—hostages—were a different matter. As presumed innocents, they might be used as bargaining chips or for leverage. Perhaps even ransom.

But they were accorded a special status. One might _imply_ threats or hazards regarding one's hostages but The Code demanded that they were to be protected and accorded every possible courtesy—save that of complete freedom.

It wasn't that Kim Possible had broken this code.

She had, in fact, required this girl's complete protection and the best medical care that could be brought to the island.

But there was something in her voice…her body language…

…her eyes…

…that suggested that this young comatose girl was not really a hostage…

…but a prisoner…

…and, therefore, an enemy.

And now she had given birth.

Did that mean he was guarding two hostages?

Or two _prisoners_?

Two enemies…

It troubled him greatly.

Especially since the cancer was making aggressive inroads on his failing health now.

Should he send the child away? Technically, he had agreed to keep the young woman as a protected hostage. Nothing was specified about the unborn child…

…now very much "born".

Nor was this Hirotaka's status clear. He had come to the island with Kim Possible and was ordered to remain behind to assist with guarding and "protecting" the pregnant hostage.

The fact that he was operating under a mind-control chip obscured his true place in the scheme of things but it didn't take long to figure out that this Hirotaka had a past with the young woman called Yori. And that, while he wasn't the child's father, he knew who was.

Señor Senior, Senior was a shrewd businessman and more than a little competent at the villainy game. A little research, a few phone calls to his contacts and deep-cover sources…and that air-dropped DNA test that Dr. Dementor had acquired through Dr. Amy Hall. The old man knew for certain what Kim Possible only suspected.

The child's father was Ron Stoppable.

And his young hostage was his wife, presumed dead these many months.

This much he was sure of.

What he wasn't certain of was what Kim would do once _she_ was sure.

She was very angry these days.

She might put a good face on for her dealings with others—those she valued in some way, at least.

But the moodulator chip embedded in her forehead had ramped up her negative emotions and the burst of electrical energy from Electronique had supercharged its operational output.

As for that business with Jackie Oakes and the Amulet of Anubis? Who knew what sort of dark powers were unleashed into that Kim-crazed mix?

It was clear that she was very, very angry with Stoppable. And, while he wouldn't have thought twice about the teen heroine doing the right thing before her dark transformation, the gentleman villain was terribly uncertain about the depths of her current rage.

And, as much as he feared angering his new partner, there was the other side of the coin to consider.

Despite the idea that Kim was the one who had taken and was holding the hostages…Ron Stoppable, a man who could levitate and stop an alien invasion, might look at things a little differently. He might see his wife and daughter being kept from him on Señor Senior, Senior's island and prisoners in his own home!

Were he younger and not already at Death's…well, not door, necessarily, but with one foot on the step to Death's front porch…he might be more than a little consternated. And, even so, the idea of a vengeful Ron Stoppable descending on his home in a blue blaze of cosmic fury was still a little unsettling…

But, time and again, he was drawn back to his concerns over doing _right_ by his "guests."

And not letting a helpless young woman and her baby come to harm while he could still do something about it.

The old man rose on shaky legs and pulled his I.V. on the rolling stand to assist him in walking. Slowly, he made his way down to a secret chamber, deep beneath his multi-level mansion, to plan his next steps.

**RSVP**

"Is it Ron?" Kim asked softly.

She was lying on Shego's arm and the former villainess felt like a she-wolf caught in a leg trap: held fast and afraid to pull too hard on the limb that was pinned in the vise.

"R-r-ron?" she stuttered.

Kim drew her fingers up Shego's flank eliciting a shiver from the mint-skinned woman. "Yeah…you sort of suggested that you were interested when I was…was…playing hardball over your offer earlier."

"I—uh—I—never said—"

"It was there, in your eyes," Kim murmured. "Plus, the other girls gave you up." Her fingers traced the inside of her elbow and Shego felt goose bumps erupt across her side.

"It's okay," she continued. "I completely understand…"

"You—you do?"

Kim nodded, breathing against Shego's shoulder. "I had…a 'thing'…for him, too."

"You do?"

"I…did…"

Shego swallowed. "You…_did_?"

"Uh huh. And then I realized what…and _who_…I really wanted…" She smiled suggestively. "So, I totally get it if you kind of liked him, too."

"So…" Shego was confused. "You're okay with me…liking…him. With me…_like_-liking…him?"

Kim frowned. "I said I understand if you _liked_ him. Not 'like' him." She read the confusion in Shego's eyes. "Liked. As in past tense. Not like…as in the here and now." She smiled again. "Although we could try a three-some down the road. We could share a little Ron-shine. Only a little, mind you…"

"A three-way?" Shego swallowed. "Do you really think that Ron would go for that?"

Kim shrugged and the sheet fell away to reveal a pink-tipped breast. "It won't matter what he wants…once I have him brought before me in chains."

**RSVP**

Britina was trying to round up Hana like the dutiful babysitter she had promised Ron she could be. Heather was trying to help.

It would have been challenge trying to corral the extremely energetic ninja toddler under most circumstances. Add in a dozen ninja monkeys playing keep-away and you had an impossible situation!

"Remind me again why I'm helping you?" Heather puffed as she tried to cut Ron's little sister off before she could run into the monkey enclosure.

"Because you're my friend and, more importantly, you're Ron's friend. And it all falls under the heading of research for your movie, right?"

Hana jumped as she saw the red-headed movie star blocking her path to the monkey house. A small simian in a black gi leapt into her path and locked its leathery little fingers together beneath her tiny feet to give Hana an added boost. The tot somersaulted over Heather's head and was neatly caught by a pair of furry accomplices behind her back. Hana disappeared into the rooftop enclosure leaving a trail of giggles behind her.

"No movie is worth this!"

"Need some help?" a new voice asked.

Both girls looked back at Bonnie Rockwaller who had thrown on a t-shirt and some shorts without touching up her makeup or running a brush through her hair. It almost took them another look to be sure of her identity.

"Ron's not here," Britina said flatly.

"I _know_ that," she answered, with a hint of the old snark. "If he was, you wouldn't be putting on this Laurel and Hardy routine, chasing Ring-Around-The-Monkey. That's why I'm offering to help."

"What's in it for you?" Heather wanted to know. "Still trying to score points to get back with Ronnie?"

Bonnie sniffed with disdain but her eyes were suddenly luminous as if they held an excess of moisture. "Please. If I were chasing after Ron Stoppable I would be downstairs, haunting his doorway while everyone is off taking showers, instead of up here on the roof, trying not to step in monkey shit."

The girls looked down and suddenly executed a little dance.

As highly evolved as ninja monkeys were, they were _still_ monkeys at the end of the day. As the supermodels had finally beat a hasty retreat, Hana's army had sped them on their way with liberal amounts of thrown monkey poop, just like their cousins at the zoo.

"Ewwww! That's just not right!" Heather and Britina chorused.

"So, do you want my help or not?" Bonnie asked, folding her arms and tapping her foot…on a portion of the roof that was excrement free.

Both girls nodded.

Bonnie carefully picked her way into the rooftop enclosure that served as the ninja monkey dormitory. "Hana!" she called sweetly, "it's your Auntie Bon Bon! Where are you? I need your help."

There was a high pitched giggle and a tiny voice said: "Pay hidey-seek!"

"Okay," Bonnie said, "but lets play hide and seek with your big brother…"

"Brudder not here," Hana answered tentatively. "Brudder gone."

"Well, let's look for him," Bonnie cooed. "Come on." She knelt down and opened her arms. "We'll go look for him together."

Hana came bounding out of the darkness and flew into the Business major/cheerleader's arms. "Ook for brudder!" she squealed, hugging the brunette's neck.

Bonnie stood and began carrying Hana toward the roof exit. As she stepped around the minefield of monkey feces, she noticed the diminutive shinobi were following along behind her.

She stopped and turned, placing her free hand on her hip. "Ohhhhh, no. You guys are gonna stay here and clean up your mess. I don't want to see your furry faces until this rooftop is spotless. And I don't just mean—"

_SPLAT!_

An overripe monkey turd hit the teal-eyed brunette in the shoulder.

Britina ducked in and took Hana out of the line of fire as Bonnie began to tremble.

"Oh, no you didn't!" she growled, as she wiped the offending (and offensive) missile off of her shirt.

Several of the simian shinobi began to hop up and down and hoot.

"Sorry, Hana," Bonnie told the tot as Britina and Heather carried her toward the exit with increasing speed. "I can't play hide-and-seek right now. Auntie Bon Bon has to stay here and _spank_ some very naughty monkeys!"

As the girls carried the toddler past the heavy fire door, they could hear a chorus of screams begin as a literal shit-storm erupted.

**RSVP**

Even though they were four copies of the very same being, the Ron clones were already unable to agree on something: the most effective way of tying up DNAmy. As a result, the mad geneticist more closely resembled a fat, hempen mummy than a woman secured by a few turns of rope.

She hadn't struggled for long. The combined disappointments of her clones turning out to be Ron Stoppable instead of Shego, further complicated by the failure of her agonizer remote control...who could have anticipated that the presence of the Load kid's chip being in the original would have altered his physiology just enough to make his copies immune to her neural stimulator?

It was clear that the universe was arrayed against her and she might as well surrender to the inevitable.

"Now what?" one of the Rons asked, looking around the camp.

"Well, I don't know about you," another Ron said, "but I'm having a bit of a problem talking to me where there's more than one of me. We can't _all_ be Ron Stoppable—"

"But we _are_ all Ron Stoppable," the third interrupted.

"Dude, I know that," the second answered. "What I mean is we need a way to tell each other apart. Starting with our names."

The other three stared at him.

"Right, Ron?" he prompted.

"Well…" the other three started. And then said: "Ohhhhh," as they got his point.

"What do you suggest?" number four asked.

"No, dude; it's what do _we_ suggest."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to have to learn a brand new name. Plus, won't it be confusing when we run into people we know?"

"Isn't it confusing already?"

"How about we go with something like Ron Stoppable, Ronald Stoppable, Ronnie Stoppable, and…and…"

"Dibbs on the Ron-man!"

"Dude! Be fair: we all need to get turns being the Ron-man!"

"What about the Ronster?"

"I suppose we can try it out on a trial basis."

"So, dibbs on Ronald!"

"I got Ron!"

"Aw man, I don't wanna be Ronnie! I haven't been Ronnie since I was seven!"

"How about our middle name: Dean?"

"Huh. Yeah. I can work with that. For now."

"So what's next on the agenda?"

"Getting Global Justice to pick up DNAmy and getting us a ride home."

"And how do we do that?"

"Well, she has a satellite phone."

"Does anyone remember GJ's number?"

"We could call Wade."

"Sounds like a plan. But we've got to get a move on! Junior Prom is just a couple of weeks away and now we have to find four dates for the dance instead of just one!

**RSVP**

Adrena Lynn lit a cigarette and palmed a set of keys as she headed out the front door of the mansion.

It had been a real roller-coaster ride these past few weeks and now she was _done_.

For a short time she had felt a part of something that she could give her loyalty to.

For most of her life she had been a loner. Aside from the requisite cameraman during her extreme stunts phase, or the occasional helicopter pilot or temporary stunt wrangler, she had always gone her own way. The idea that she could be a part of something larger than herself had never even crossed her mind until Mastermind had recruited her for the grand plan to destroy Team Possible.

When all of that was undone by the transformation of Dark Kim and her new and improved plan for global domination, it had seemed to be just a speed bump: she was still part of something larger and now she had an opportunity for promotion inside something even bigger and better!

For a while she had felt valued…trusted, even.

Then Shego had showed up earlier today.

Knocked her on her ass and kicked her into the pool.

Then Kim had pretended to replace her as Number Two with the emerald mercenary.

And then replaced her for real after they had gone upstairs. Something had changed after Kim had implemented her plan to shoot Shego with the Truth ray. She didn't know what but, all of sudden, the former redhead was treating her former nemesis like a long, lost buddy…

…or something even better.

And now Adrena was truly out as Kim's right-hand gal and Shego was in like Flynn.

Well, the extreme stunts vixen was extremely pissed. No one treated her like an afterthought! After all the work she had done for Possible—rounding up the heads of the Triad, the Tongs, the Russian mafia, and the various crime syndicates—subduing the gangs, eradicating human trafficking, breaking the pedophilia rings, and bringing all of the major criminal organizations to heel under the rule of Dark Kim—she wasn't going to stand for being cast aside like a used and now unnecessary tool!

She wasn't crazy enough to challenge Mastermind's successor for dominance of her vast empire. Even if she could physically defeat the former teen heroine—and she knew that she couldn't—there was no way that she had the intelligence nor the charisma to keep order among the various groups and interests. She was just "The Muscle."

But she wouldn't be disrespected.

So she would leave.

And find her own place.

Where? She didn't know.

Maybe she would go back to operating solo.

Maybe she would find a small operation where she could be appreciated for her place and contributions to the team…

But she couldn't stay here.

Especially now with Kim and Shego, upstairs for hours, doing who knows what…

Adrena Lynn hefted her suitcase into the back of a small hovercraft and secured the hatch. Opening the driver's side door she was surprised to see the wavy-haired brunette with the caramel-colored skin sitting in the passenger seat.

"Take us with you," she said, nodding at the back seat where the other two former cheerleaders sat.

**RSVP**

Shego finished tying Kim's other wrist to the headboard of the bed with the sash from the second bathrobe.

"You know I can get free any time I want," the former redhead teased, tugging at her bonds before squirming down the mattress to take the slack out of her restraints. "I can use Mego's powers to shrink out of these knots or your plasma powers to burn them up."

Shego nodded, running her hands down Kim's arms from her captured wrists to her freckled shoulders. "That is so cool," she observed. "With that piece of the gem of Aviarius in your bellybutton, you should go around collecting powers from all of the super-villains and heroes!"

Kim giggled as Shegos fingers circled her breasts and brushed over her tightening nipples. "Yeah, especially since Camille Leon's powers enable me to look like anybody else…" Her skin began to turn blue and a small scar began to grow under her left eye.

"Don't!" Shego yelled. "Do you want me to lose my lunch? All over you?"

The scar disappeared and her skin returned to its pale pink hue. "Sorry."

"My fantasy, my rules," Shego growled. "Be you. Nobody else. And at least pretend that you have no special powers and you can't get free—until I'm done, anyway."

Kim stopped smiling. "Shego! You'll never get away with this!" she said, struggling against the tied sashes. She stopped and smiled. "Anything else?"

"How about the red hair? For old times' sake?"

Kim tried to shrug but her arms were pulled too tight. "Whatever you want, darling. Then it's my turn…" The red highlights in her ebon hair expanded until she looked like the Kim Possible of old. "Do you want to gag me?"

Shego climbed on top and shook her head, whipping her long hair across Kim's perky breasts. "I want to hear you scream my name before we're done."

* * *

><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Unless you're a total Newbie on this site, you know what "Kigo" is: in fact, it's getting hard to sort the non-Kigo from the rest of the more recent offerings. Nothin' against the KIGO crowd: plenty of room here for everyone and, except for beastiality and kiddie porn, I got no beef with the broad spectrum of the human experience and interests. In fact, you may have noticed a certain closeness developing between a couple of former Middleton High cheerleaders in this story (though they still seem to be motivated toward a particular "threesome"). But I must confess that, beyond the KimRon baseline, I like a good RonGo or RonBon or...well, I won't limit myself: a good story is a good story, whatever the pairings. But, for this chapter (and who knows how much beyond) a little something for those who like the KIGO pairing...**

**...and, who knows, if it's popular enough, I can still change the ending as well as the last third of this gigantic saga...**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 38<strong>

_Sentinel103 10/14/13 . chapter 38_

So you decided to ditch the muscle and a couple of cheerleaders huh? Something tells me that they'll run across Ron and spill about Yori and the baby. This is going to get more whacked than it already is.

**_Whacked? I don't understand. I thought that this story was unfolding in a totally logical and well-organized manner...(hee hee). R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler1014/13 . chapter 38_

That ridiculous tea party that poor English girl wandered into was more in control than this stitch. I feel like I'm being pulled into eight directions at once here, and it *hurts*!

The laughter, that is. You've got me snickering to the point of bellowing, and its giving me a pain the side I'm having trouble breathing around.

So please, don't stop! In fact, if you could please up the rate of updates it would be much appreciated. I hate getting panicky over the prospect of stories ending up abandoned. it just feels...wrong, y'know?

Plus which I bet you can't keep this level of lunacy going much longer!

**_Ah, Uber...betting I can't keep this level of lunacy going...do I detect a whiff of reverse psychology? As long as there is sufficient reader interest, I shall endeavor to move the story along to its chaotic conclusion. In the meantime, where's your KP fanfiction? Perhaps a story with Kara Possible in a Viper doing battle against the Synthodrone empire with Eric as "Number 6." The mind boggles. ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 1014/13 . chapter 38_

Okay Shego, Kim will now scream Ron's name. Rrrrooooooonnnnnnnnnn!

**_Dude, that's funny!_**

RSVP IV? What about a prequel? Like the Ron Man?

**_Nah, I'm already detecting reader ennui and I'm not sure if there will be enough of them left by the time I get finished with Part II, never mind Part III._**

Harley and Ivy are going to be making an appearance. Frankly I think that's maybe a little over done. I've seen it twice here in the Kim Possible section. Once was by Weirdbard and the other is a very similar story to Weirdbard's "Partners in Crime"

**_Precisely why I'm planning my little plot twist. But I think you'll like it when it happens..._**

I think that's fanon. My opinion he's from Mrs. Possible's side as we don't see any of her family. Mr. Possible has his mother, Nana, brother Slim and niece Joss.

**_Well, it's all about the last name. Anne only became a "Possible" by taking her husband's last name when she married him. Therefore Cousin Larry has to be from Dr. Mr. Possible's side of the family. Hmmmmm, Anne's lack of family in the show could make for an interesting back story..._**

Ron's lonely, yeah right.

**_Well, I was being whimsically sarcastic. But, in a sense, Ron is still lonely at his core. He lost his wife and family and Rufus (and unknowingly for now, his best friend), and all of those ladies vying for his attention are not really satisfying his need for true intimacy yet-I'm not sure that he can have that until he's done more healing and his head and heart are in the right place..._**

8) Hmm, I would say that she is a ghost, at least if one were to go by the movie "Ghost Dad". I think really it's open to interpretation on the part of the writer.

**_Really? You're going to cite "Ghost Dad" as a reference? Guess it's better than "Leonard Part 6."_**

10) That's just bad. 11) Coven or even collective if we go by Gene Roddenberry in which uses to describe the Borg. "Resistance is Futile. Surrender and prepare to be assimilated."

**_Are you suggesting that Ron surrender and be assimilated? Oh, Foxy, you have a dirty mind! I just don't tolerate that kind of-uh-oh-never mind..._**

12) That maybe, but some of the other stuff I've posted previously, I get the impression you don't always know what I'm writing about.

**_True, dat._**

Betty and Shego now that would make for an interesting pairing probably like Kim and Bonnie.

**_You never know how this thing is going to shake out in the end. (I do and I'm not sayin'! Although reader feedback has altered the plan a bit...)_**

I think before Señor Senior Senior goes, he should write a book like a villain's code of honor. It might rank up there with Sun Tzu's "Art of War" and Gen. Clauswitz's "On War".

**_And Ron Stoppable's name would figure prominently on the "Dedication page."_**

I think you mean s- hit the fan.

**_I know that Bonnie could be interpreted as being a fan of Ron's but I don't think that qualifies..._**

In like Flynn? You mean Flint.

**_Ah, we're both showing our respective ages here: "In like Flint" was a movie in the '60s. "In like Flynn" (which Coburn's movie tweaks its title from) is a slang catchphrase from the '40s._**

Let's see there's La Costa Nostra and the South American drug rings. If I remember what Adam Schiff said in "Law and Order": "The Russians make the Colombians look like the Von Trapp Family."

**_And the Tongs would make both their bitches. Dark Kim and her minions are scary!_**

So the girls have escaped in the hover flyer.

Keep up the good work.

**_Thanks, DF! We try to please...but I expect some pissed off readers very soon. R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 1016/13 . chapter 38_

Gee, I wonder what Shego's really up to now...Oy. And does she ever reverse the Ray on Kimmie?

**_What would be the fun in that? Of course, in the episode, "The Cupid Effect," we see that the effects of the ray do eventually wear off._**

But with this going on upstairs it seems the party's breaking up downstairs as Lynn and Company are leaving. Wonder if they're going to head over to Ron's place...?

**_Depends on whether Kim catches them first..._**

And meanwhile the high school-Rons (oh boy is this ever going to go over well there) seem to be going 'home'?

**_Good! You picked up on the fact that the Ron clones are products of his DNA harvested during his Junior year in high school. They won't be as mature physically, nor have the memories and experiences that happened anytime after the samples were taken. And, yes, anyone interested in studying chaos theory might want to head on over to Ron's and get a good seat!_**

Loved Bonnie's answer to the challenge, but I think the little buggers wanted to play with her? LOL!

**_"Play with her?" I think Bonnie would say: "That's a load of crap!" (I couldn't resist.)_**

Oh boy, now the sprawl has so many alleys to travel through.

CB73

**_Run for your lives! It's The Blob! Let's just hope that nobody else gets cloned! (LOL) R~13_**

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><p>Guest chapter 38 . 114/14

Ohhhhhhhhhhh shitttt are you gonna move zorpox to one of the clones

_**Now, see? You people can't keep blaming me for evil plot bunnies when you keep giving me ideas like this! Ah boo-ya-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaaaa! R~13**_

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><p><em><strong>crash2663 chapter 38 . 1114/14**_

Why does Kim always have to butt her pointy tits into everything?

_**Because she wants to rule the world! (And maybe a certain former sidekick?) We'll blame the Cupid Ray for this chapter. (And the next...) R~13**_

_**P.S. Dark Kim reminds me that it was established back in RSVP I that those "points" have shown evidence of "late blooming" post high school... (sorry, Mistress...ow!)**_

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><p><em><strong>cybercorpsesnake chapter 38 . 1114/14**_

Nice chapter. Keep up the good work.

_**Will du...er...do! R~13**_


	39. Call My Name

**Authors / Notes: Since this chapter was originally longer than any of the more advanced ones, I've opted not to add any additional scenes/plot threads here, so you're getting it fairly quick on the heels of the last repost...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 39 – Call My Name<strong>

Anne Possible sat in the darkened apartment and waited, her mind and heart in a tumult of emotion as she listened to the sound of the shower in the next room.

As confusing as her present state of mind was, at least she had clarity regarding who she was…

…and who she _had_ been.

She _wasn't_ Kim Possible, her missing daughter and sole surviving member of her immediate family.

She was _Anne_ Possible, former neuro-surgeon and widowed wife of James Timothy Possible. Her twin sons had also perished in the fireball that had consumed the Stoppable home, leaving nothing but ash. Not even a single body that could be properly buried.

She knew now that she had gone through a difficult grieving process, imagining herself as Kim in order to bring her long-vanished daughter back into being and banish her own sense of worthlessness in the process.

Somehow, in the process, she had imagined that, thinking she was Kim, Ron Stoppable was _her_ boyfriend and fiancé.

That she was in love with him.

_And why not?_

Even if she wasn't Kim Possible, Ron was a yummy young man: kind, compassionate, brave, and committed to using his wealth and unique powers in looking after and protecting others!

Anne was no longer a wife and apparently not even a mother. She had the body and the hormones and the urges of a twenty-five year-old coupled with the wisdom and experiences of woman in her forties who had lived enough of life to finally value what was truly important. What qualities were to be valued in a friend…

…_or a lover?_

The sound of running water ceased and, a moment later, the bathroom door opened emitting a cloud of water vapor. And a wet, sleek Ronald D. Stoppable wearing a loosely knotted towel around his lean, muscled torso.

She rose from her seat on his bed and Ron stopped just across the threshold.

"A-anne?"

Like his cargos on so many missions before, his towel suddenly ended around his feet.

**RSVP**

"I don't get it," Adrena Lynn said as she banked the hovercraft toward Upperton, Colorado. "Why would you want to go back to him? Why would you want to have anything to do with him? From what Possible told me, this Stoppable—"

"Really?" Marcella interrupted. "You're going to believe anything that psycho told you about the sweetest, kindest—"

"Sexiest," Hope chimed in, "hottest—"

"Most wonderful guy a girl could ever hope to meet," Crystal finished.

"She's just jealous!" the two girls in the back chorused.

"Well…I wondered," the blonde said. "The last I heard, they were a team. And then…dating. I even got the impression that they were engaged or something. Saw all that crap on the internet about him destroying that alien invasion. Figured he'd changed into something monstrous or something—to hear her rant and rave…"

"_One _of them changed," Marcella snarked, "for sure!"

"That girl just ain't right!" Crystal observed.

"Tell me about it!" Adrena muttered.

"I think he intimidates her and she just can't handle it after all of those years she had him as her lapdog."

"Hope!" her two cheermates exclaimed.

"Well that's what Bonnie always said. And, admit it: that's kind of what we all thought…"

"Until we woke up and saw how dreamy he really was!" Crystal admitted.

"Oh gak," the blonde mercenary exclaimed. "I may have to stick around after I drop you off and see if he really is sweet enough to put you all into a diabetic coma!"

"Erm, maybe you should wait in the hovercraft and we'll bring your reward out to you," Hope said, suddenly feeling a little uneasy. "That way we won't keep you from where you want to go…"

**RSVP**

_Kimmie's a bit of a late bloomer,_ Shego thought as her hands massaged the former redhead's breasts. _But she's starting to fill out nicely. She'll never be top heavy like her cousin but she'll have all of the right curves to go with her toned core._

Kim's back arched up off the bed as Shego began working her way down that toned torso, nibbling along the curved slope of her ribcage and then running her tongue across her midriff to nip at her other side.

_Girl's stomach is as tight as a drum! Wonder if Stoppable ever beat on it with his drumstick?_ Then she thought of her own abdomen: the muscles still firm but layered with a softer coating of flesh to make her less…hard…when making out with a lover of her own.

_Which did Stoppable prefer?_

She shook her head. It didn't matter: he'd had the opportunity to choose her over the others and he had passed. It was time to move on.

After she did just one more thing…

**RSVP**

She had poured out her heart to him, apologizing for her temporary madness…for throwing herself at him in the guise of being his best friend and girlfriend—her daughter—_Kimberly_ Ann Possible….

And, finally confessing her own feelings, confused as they were, as a reborn Anne Possible née Credible, twenty-something widow and a woman who was out of place and even out of "time" but very much appreciative of who and what Ron Stoppable was.

Ron, now wrapped in a bathrobe, rose from his chair and came and knelt at her feet, taking her hands in his and kissing them gently as he looked up at her and told her what an amazing woman she truly was…

How beautiful she truly was—and not just because of her smoking hot body and beautilicious face—but because of her intelligence and wisdom and warmth and kindness.

He told her how strongly attracted he was to her, as well.

And then he told her that he _wasn't_ Ron Stoppable.

**RSVP**

The voice was disturbing.

There were reports of some would-be, pretender to the throne of Mastermind who, before she had perished by the wrath of the current Mastermind, had used an electronic voice scrambler to hide her gender and identity.

The voice of the new masked and gloved figure on their communication screens was not just inhuman but possessed a quality that raised the hair on the backs of the crime lords' necks and sent very real chills down their spines. Chills that were in no way merely figurative. The _Fist of Mastermind_ intimidated the hell out of these brutal, hardened men and none of them had even met the shadowy figure in the flesh, as it were.

After receiving their various reports and giving them their assignments for the coming week, The _Fist_ paused as he reviewed a piece of data that was buried in one of the reports.

"Droghere," the creepy voice boomed over the speakers in each of the criminal lairs, "Do you still have that fifty-five gallon drum that you like to drown your competitors in?"

"Yes, _Fist of Mastermind_," the big man with the scarred face answered.

"Have your people fetch it and bring it here," the disturbing voice demanded.

Droghere's minions did not wait for their boss to confirm the odd request; they practically ran out of the room in an effort to appease the fearful figure on the monitor.

"For what purpose do you request this, _Fist_?"

The cloaked and hooded figure leaned toward the camera in his base of operations. "Do you presume to address me as if we are on a first name basis? That would be a tragic mistake for you, Droghere! _What_ is my name?"

"_Fist of Mastermind_," the scary Russian crime lord said a little sullenly. He knew that the other crime lords were still online and watching his humiliation.

"Do not forget yourself, again," The Fist admonished. "Mastermind bids me to make examples once and only once. Others are always waiting in line to fill the shoes of those who are recalcitrant or slow learners...ah, here we go…"

The big Russian turned and saw his people wheeling in the large metal drum that he used to drown his enemies in. He kept it filled without ever emptying it or changing the water, hence, over time, the clear liquid had become a stew of mucus, blood and vomit in addition to its base of H2O .

The barrel, sitting on a small, flat dolly with wheeled castors, was rolled up beside the crime lord and then the minions beat a hasty retreat to the back and sides of the room.

Near the exits.

"Droghere," the awful voice intoned. "Stick your head in the water."

The big man blanched. "What! Why?"

The _Fist of Mastermind_ brought his gloved hands together in a thunderous clap causing everyone to flinch…

…even those criminals watching from other lairs across the world.

"The proper response is immediate obedience. Not 'what' or 'why'," the masked figure thundered. "But, just this once, I will explain 'why' for you. And for those watching."

The figure settled back in his high-backed chair and seemed to relax a bit but—for some unfathomable reason—the air of palpable menace seemed to only increase.

"Recently," The _Fist_ continued, another of Mastermind's formidable lieutenants—Dark Kim—instructed everyone that there were to be no more drug sales to children. Everyone was given a set of clear directives of which drugs would be permitted and to whom they could be sold. Mastermind was very clear about this: all schools and daycare centers, any public place catering to children or adults with children present, were to be drug-free zones at least ten blocks out. You, Droghere, have ignored that directive."

"But _Fist—of Mastermind_! This is terrible for business! We are losing millions of dollars each month!"

"That is of no concern to you," The Fist interrupted. "Your primary concern should be obedience. Now. Put. Your. Head. In. The. Water."

Droghere stood a little taller, lifting his chin. "And _this_ is you telling me why I must put my head in this filthy barrel?" he rejoined obstinately.

"No," The Fist answered, raising a gloved hand, "this is!" He gestured and suddenly Droghere's hair burst into flame.

As the Russian began to scream and run about, The Fist addressed the other minions in the room. "You might want to assist your boss in finding the water."

Warily—and perhaps a little reluctantly—they approached their flaming leader, grabbed him, and dragged him to the barrel. If it seemed that they held his head under the nasty liquid a little longer than necessary, it might be chalked up to coincidence.

Or, maybe not.

The Fist of Mastermind ended his video conference with the rest of the crime lords reminding them that this was a small example and that the next one would be necessarily larger and more permanent.

Signing out of the network, Larry Possible studied the twenty computer monitors ringing his workstation. While he could monitor the criminal enterprises through a variety of locations and camera angles, all that they could see in turn was a digitally altered version of his image with a computer generated mask, cowl, and costume. The voice modulator was an improvement on the old Mastermind's set-up, adding in sub-harmonics that would affect the limbic system of the brain, causing those he spoke to as _The Fist of Mastermind_ to experience intense feelings of fear and inadequacy.

Or at least that was the concept behind the software algorithms that duplicated real life, real-time situations, within the game that Kim and Charlotte had convinced him to play.

He marveled at how realistic the characters seemed to be on his monitors. As if they were actors in costume playing the parts instead of lifelike Sims—artificial avatars generated by the computer program.

But he mustn't think that way.

Kim and Charlotte had stressed that he must immerse himself into the game experience as if everything and everyone were completely real.

So, he had directed those ninja-characters that had once belonged to the Fukushima avatar to infiltrate Droghere's personal quarters and doctor his hair products with remote incendiaries so that he could bring the errant crime lord back into harness and/or make an example of him to keep the others in line.

His cousin's Mastermind character had a set of moral guidelines for taking over the world. She knew how impossible it would be to wipe out all crime with the resources at hand to oppose it. However a global game of chess just might succeed, pitting the various criminal organizations against one another by bringing them together under one central authority-and making them believe it was for the purpose of making them richer, more efficient, and ultimately more powerful.

_Step into my parlor said the spider to the flies..._

It was a concept with merit, Larry thought as he finished logging the results of this latest conference. And an intriguing challenge: being the good guy pretending to be the bad guy to bring the other bad guys down.

Kim's nerdy cousin leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the console with his hands behind his head.

Aside from the concept, this game was pretty awesome! Amazingly realistic, challenging, and quite a bit of fun, actually.

He could almost believe that he was really taking charge of various criminal organizations around the world to accomplish some master plan that would ultimately spell their doom. Of course he could never play with real lives this way but, as long as it was just a game (with computer generated characters, mobs, and a list of faux foes) there were no moral limits on the strategies he could choose to win the ultimate end-game.

He'd have to get back to work eventually but, for the moment, he wanted to savor this little victory and daydream about the date he would have with Bonnie Rockwaller once he won this game…

**RSVP**

"When I say that I'm not Ron Stoppable," the man who looked like Ron Stoppable elaborated, "I mean to say that I am not the _core personality_ that you and others have come to know as _The _Ron Stoppable." He gestured, passing his hands down the sides of his torso. "This is Ron Stoppable's body…" He smiled. "…accept no substitutes. But Ron's not home right now. I am. Or, rather, _we_ are…"

"We…?" Anne arched an eyebrow.

"Even though you're not a psychiatrist, you are a brain surgeon, therefore you know something of the underlying workings of the mind. Doubtless you know of the condition called MPD or Multiple Personality Disorder?"

She shook her head. "It's not called that anymore. The preferred term and diagnosis is DID or Dissociative Identity Disorder."

He nodded. "There, you see? _More_ than equipped to understand what I'm about to tell you…"

**RSVP**

Her tongue slowly slid down the center of Kim's stomach, making little side-trips as her former nemesis squirmed and twisted in her bonds. Shego raised her head: "Remember, Princess; _my_ fantasy. You can't escape until I say so…"

Kim was shaking her head from side to side but stopped long enough to nod and grunt a brief assent.

_It meant little_, Shego thought. She knew that Kim could get free anytime she wanted. That shard of the Gem of Aviarius buried in her bellybutton stored the morphing powers of Camille Leon and the shrinking powers of her brother Mego, as well as her own plasma powers that had been absorbed by the gem, as well.

The bindings on her wrists were merely ornamental with those powers at her command. And as soon as Kim had her orgasm, all of her promises would go right out the window along with her self-control…

Shego nibbled over to her captive's side where her waist curved in, between her ribs and her broadening hips. There was enough give in the flesh here that she was able to get some skin between her teeth and pull a bit.

Her "prisoner" yelped a little.

"Sorry, Kimmie," Shego apologized, "I thought you liked it...rough…"

"I do," she panted. "Just surprised me, that's all. I'm your prisoner: do with me as you will! Punish me! Make me scream your name!"

"Oh, you will, my little slave-slut," the raven-haired woman said. "That's a promise!"

**RSVP**

Bonnie Rockwaller spent an hour in the shower scouring every square centimeter of her skin. She washed her hair four times. She nearly punctured her eardrums (twice) trying to make sure her ear canals were as pink and fresh as any newborn's. By the time she was satisfied that she was free of any fecal matter she was exhausted.

She stumbled out of the shower and grabbed a towel. "Do you need anything, T?" she called to her roommate as she started drying herself off. "I've got to run some errands and do a little shopping before hitting the library. I won't be back until after night class so, if you need anything, let me get it for you now."

"I'm good," was the brief reply from Tara's bedroom.

The platinum blonde was dependent on others for some assistance during her recovery and Bonnie had taken it upon herself as her best friend and current roommate to be there for her as much as possible.

But, had Tara been able to completely fend for herself, Bonnie wasn't so sure that they would even be sharing the same apartment. The other girls had expressed their displeasure with Bonnie trying (and all but succeeding) to bed the object of their affections in the most direct of terms. Tara, however, had withdrawn into herself. She never spoke to former Queen B unless spoken to, first. When she did speak, she said as little as possible. Any attempts to address this distance between them were met with denials that "nothing was wrong."

Maybe it was time to move back into her dorm room, Bonnie mused as she dressed in slacks and a knit top. But if she left, it would make coming around that much harder and would probably be shut out completely.

Maybe she should talk to Monique about moving into one of the new apartments that was available for rent now. It would be a little pricey without a roommate but maybe she could find somebody within a month or so. Somebody who could put up with her. And not be further competition for Ron-Ro—er—Stoppable.

Or, maybe, she could take over being his sister's _au pair_. After all, she did come to an understanding with Hana's little simian playmates. She smiled a wicked smile and cracked her knuckles. It had been nice to blow off a little steam and prove that Ron wasn't the only "monkey master" around these parts.

She was running a brush through her hair when she heard a knock at the door.

"That might be Ron," Tara called. "He said that he was going to come by and tuck me in…"

Bonnie's mood turned dark(er) immediately. Tuck her in? It was way too early for—_wait! Tuck her in?_

Maybe she should skip tonight's class and hang around…

Though she was already too far behind in her studies to seriously consider missing any more classes.

She sighed as she grabbed her book bag and went to answer the door. Honestly, could this day get any worse?

Apparently it could: Connie and Lonnie Rockwaller were standing just outside in the hallway.

"Hey, Stinkface," Connie said cheerily, "when are you going to come over and visit us?"

"Uh…" was all that Bonnie could come up with immediately.

"You come halfway around the world to come rescue us," Lonnie accused good-naturedly, "but you have no time for us now that we're in the same time-zone?"

"Well…there's—" Down the hallway something moved close to the wall, distracting her. It was low to the ground and moved oddly. _What...?_ It disappeared around the corner. "—all this schoolwork and I have to work part time…" Bonnie mumbled. "Can't be running back to Middleton every weekend now that I'm in college…" her voice trailed off. _Was that a Garden Gnome? _She shook her head_. I must be really tired!_

"Who said anything about Middleton, Toad-tush," Connie retorted.

"Yeah," Lonnie chimed in; "we've moved!"

_No..._

"So, no more excuses, baby sis! We'll be seeing a lot more of each other now!"

_No no no._

"We're going to have an apartment-warming party as soon as we're moved in!"

_Nononononononono!_

"Just signed the lease about an hour ago!"

"We would have found you sooner but we were, like, taking the tour!

"Did you know that Heather has an apartment here?"

"And Britina?"

"And where is that rich guy who owns this place?"

"We totally want to meet him!"

"Totally!"

Bonnie wanted to break down and cry.

She almost did.

But then the old Queen B rose from the ashes of her despair like a dark, vengeful phoenix.

"He's up on the roof," she said tremulously.

"The roof?"

"What's he doing up there?"

Bonnie allowed herself a small smile. Worked hard at not letting it get away from her.

"There's a little building up there—an enclosure, really—where he…practices yoga."

"Yoga?"

"Up on the roof?"

Bonnie nodded. "Inside the little out-building at the far end. But you have to know the password for him to let you in."

"Password?"

"Why do you need a password?"

"Does he do his yoga in the nude?"

Bonnie nodded, feeling almost guilty. "I'd go with you but I'm going to be late for class."

"Go ahead," said Connie, who fancied herself as the smartest of the Rockwaller sisters. "Just tell us the password and we can take it from here."

"I…don't know…" Bonnie drawled, faking reluctance.

"Come on, Lardlips, you know you never really had a shot…" Lonnie fluffed her golden locks. "Just tell us and whoever gets him will invite you to the wedding."

Bonnie heaved a sigh and slumped her shoulders in resignation. "Okay. You win. As always. Just tiptoe up to the enclosure and yell: 'We're Bonnie Rockwaller's sisters—'

"Yell?"

"What is he? Deaf?"

Bonnie nodded. "A little, yes. So yell that you're my sisters and then yell: 'Ninjas are stupid and monkeys suck!'

"That's a weird password."

"Yeah, well, you've heard some of the stories, I'm sure."

"There is that."

"Thanks, Stinkface."

Bonnie shrugged and closed the door behind her as she pushed past and headed down the hall. "Happy to help. You deserve this opportunity more than anyone else I know."

She managed to make it down to the first floor before the giggles got the better of her.

She was outside and across the street when the sounds of a dozen monkeys hooting and screeching drifted down from the warehouse roof. A moment later the real screaming began.

**RSVP**

"And you're telling me that all of these disparate personalities are slowly being integrated without the guidance of a mental health professional?" Anne shook her head. "I don't know, Ro—" She stopped. "What do I call you?"

He shrugged. "Just Ron, I suppose. We're Ron, too. Just not the fully developed core personality that he has presented to the world for most of his life."

"Most?"

"Well there have been a multitude of times that he has displayed skills or talents far beyond those of a normal teenaged boy. There are times those skills have come out at need and other times when they were suppressed or camouflaged to keep his…unique…qualities hidden from others. Or even from himself."

Anne nodded thoughtfully. "It couldn't have been easy—staying in my daughter's shadow…"

"Especially since she would have been forever in his shadow had he revealed his true abilities on a consistent basis. "

The idea shocked her. At first. But, as she recalled his skills as a first-class chef, his abilities to communicate with animals, his supremacy at the school talent show, his higher success rate on solo missions than Kim's, the ninja training, the lotus blade, the mystical monkey powers. And then there was… "Zorpox…" she whispered.

The other nodded. "Yes. Zorpox is a very…special…part of Ron Stoppable's personality. When the Attitudinator split Ron's personality and merged it with Drakken's so-called 'evil' it also took the suppressed genius that lay dormant in Ron's subconscious. But, sort of like pulling up a net from the ocean floor, other parts of Ron's subconscious were brought to the surface, as well."

"The Id?" Anne asked.

"I suppose there was a goodly chunk of that. Coupled with all of his hurts and insecurities that he had buried and suppressed over the years. Ignored by the press that covers your daughter as if she were a solo rock star, dissed by his peers, ignored or even scorned by girls who date boys who wouldn't cross the street to save a puppy while he goes out and saves the world on school nights…well…" He made a gesture.

"I see…"

"Do you? Can you see how he sort of snapped? And suddenly this totally selfless guy had a chance to be totally selfish for a change. Break the rules, do whatever he wanted, be the bad boy. Because that's what every girl seems to want: the _bad boy_. Girls may talk the talk but they don't walk the walk. They'll say how they want a boy who's sweet and kind and considerate…and then kick dust in his face as they run off to try and tame another bad boy on their Friday nights…"

Anne nodded, remembering her younger self before she had settled down and grown the hell up.

"The first time that Zorpox emerged he was more than a little insane. Under the circumstances, it was understandable. The second time? Less crazy, more self-contained. He was evolving—though we didn't know it, then. We tried to suppress him, isolate him. That just made him more adversarial. More recently we've taken the tack of trying to integrate him. He still slips out for a little solo work—and that can be useful at times. Like his little turn up on the roof awhile ago. More often, we're letting him out with a meld of others. Integrating him with some of the more mature and more severe elements of Ron's personalities. Yoking the Id with the Superego, as it were, to form the higher consciousness, the Ego." He grinned. "Gradually he—_we_—seem to be assimilating quite nicely…"

Anne put a hand to her chest. "Zorpox?"

Ron stood and took a bow, "At your service, m'lady."

**RSVP**

She was spending a lot of time on Kim's belly, despite the former cheerleader's urgings for Shego to go "lower."

She had even gotten her captive to roll to the side so that she could slide a rolled pillow under the small of her back. Now Kim was pulled taut, her body arched upwards. The skin between her sternum and her pelvic girdle was so tight that Shego could no longer bite or nip it, she could only graze Kim's moist flesh with the edge of her teeth.

Kim's stomach was slick, wet playground as it erupted in rivulets of sweat to mingle with Shego's saliva. The emerald dominatrix ran her tongue across the northern border of Kim's dampened nether curls, eliciting a sharp hiss from her "captive" and an enthusiastic shaking of the younger woman's hips. "Uhhhh!" she groaned, "What's happening?"

"Noting the shadow of uncertainty in Kim's voice, Shego retrieved the Cupid Ray from the nightstand and gave the New Mastermind another dose of pink, heart-shaped waves of energy.

"Oooooooo," Kim cooed. "I don't know what you just did but I loooove it!"

"Mmmmm," Shego nodded and examined her target once more.

**RSVP**

"So where is Ron?" Anne asked. "The _core_ Ron?" She almost said the "real" Ron but realized that this Ron was just as real as the other—if somewhat less known.

"That I cannot say," this Ron admitted. "He has gone into _The Blue_ and we do not know where or when or even _if_ he will be back…"

"Then…what are your plans? Ron?"

"At first, I—we—appeared in his absence, like a leak: much like water rushing in to fill a void. The idea was to serve as a place holder, a bookmark of sorts, to keep his place until he returned. The plan was passive: protect Ron while keeping our own existence a secret. But there are those of us who do not believe in remaining passive."

"Zorpox?" she asked.

"Among others. We feel that the core Ron is too used to putting his own needs, his own self interests _behind_ everyone else's for his own good. Some of us would like to pursue a more…uh...aggressive…approach to consolidating his—and our—mutual interests."

"Meaning what?"

"Well, for one thing," he said, suddenly looking bashful, "we have been discussing the reinforcing and cementing of key alliances…"

"I…see…" She took a long, slow, deep breath. Let it out slowly. "Tell me…Ron. Am I a…_key_…alliance…? And would you like to…_cement_…me…?"

**RSVP**

"Are you giving me hickies?" Kim sighed as Shego pressed her mouth against her captive's belly, forming a moist, tight seal, and began sucking once more.

"Mmmm-hmmmm," Shego confirmed as she tried to suck hard enough to leave a tell-tale bruise.

"When you're d-done," Kim said as her breathing became more erratic, "I w-want to l-look in the m-m-mirror and suh-see your k-kisses all over m-m-my bod-dy!"

"Your wish is my command," Shego murmured, breaking the seal on Kim's skin with an audible "pop!"

"I-it w-will b-be in a b-bit…wh-when yuh-you're m-m-my ca-captive!"

"Is that your fantasy, Kimmie?" She ran her tongue in an intricate spiral, orbiting Kim's navel like a satellite with a decaying orbit, moving closer and closer to the aroused woman's center.

"M-maybe t-this t-t-t-t-time. Ohhhhhh! That f-f-feels s-s-so n-n-niccccccccce!" She tugged on her bonds a little frantically now. "G-go luh-lower! Pleeease!"

"Shut up, slave!" Shego mumbled around her fully extended tongue. "You don't give the orders here! And you will address me as Mistress. Until I let you come."

"Yessss, M-m-mistressss! Ohhhhh! May I pleasssssse c-c-come?"

"Not yet, slave," Shego replied, her tongue lapping at the little lip of flesh that formed a crescent-shaped boundary for the underside of Kim's bellybutton.

"Uhhhhhh—what are you doing to meeeeeee!"

Shego's mouth descended on Kim's navel, her lips forming another tight seal around the fleshy pit in Kim's stomach-the circular setting that cradled the magical shard from the Gem of Aviarius.

"Uh…S-shego…wh-what are you d-doing…?"

Shego closed her teeth on the edge of the stone that protruded—ever so slightly—from Kim's stomach. The protusion refused to offer a latching point and slid from between her teeth.

"N-not there…" Kim protested. "D-don't want you t-there…" She began to squirm in a less sexy manner.

The dominant woman began to suck as hard as she could while using her teeth and her tongue to try to loosen the gem without breaking the seal formed by her lips.

Kim's legs were not tied and she was kicking now, threatening to dislodge her captor before she could dislodge the stone.

In the end it was a tie: Shego fell back but, as she did, the stone came free of its fleshy setting. A sharp intake of breath, an involuntary swallow, and the stone was suddenly gone!

Right down the green gladiatrix's throat!

"Oh, you are so dead, now!" Dark Kim huffed. "As soon as I burn my way out of these ties—" It took her a moment to realize that her wrists and hands had not erupted into flames of plasma. "I'll shrink—" But again nothing happened.

"Sorry, Kimmie," Shego drawled, poking her now empty navel with her little finger, "you're running on empty, now."

"SHEEEEEGOOOOOO!" the enraged Mastermind bellowed.

Shego stuffed Kim's panties into her mouth for a gag.

"See, Pumpkin? I told you that you'd scream my name by the time we were done."

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Well, of course "Call My Name" is the title of the Kim Possible theme song (also known as "Call Me, Beep Me") and doing a reverse riff on it here with Shego's promise to make Kim "call" her name before they were done. Apologies to all of the KIGO fans here for the <em>coitus interruptus<em>.**

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><p><strong>Author'sNotes 2: ****_I'm going to post this as is without properly proofing and vetting it. I'll go back and do it later. _**

**_Maybe._**

**_And maybe tone down the Kigo scenes-I'm trying to keep this grown-up but classy. Well, maybe "classy" isn't the best description. I like it a little edgy but I'm trying to avoid smutty. I mean some of the things I've read on this site-even with a T rating-seem to push the envelope. I don't want to drive off or offend my readers. I know that it is patently impossible to please everyone and that some people would like to see some more-er-intimate stuff. I hope I'm not crossing the lines with some of the content. Let me know if I take it too far or stray into dangerous territory. _**

**_I want to make you squirm, once in awhile...but in a good way._**

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><p><strong><em>AN 3: Well, I have gone back and proofed as well as re-edited with this repost (11/14/14) but I've left the Kim/Shego material pretty much as is per your feedback._**

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><p><strong><em>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 39<em>**

_CajunBear73 10/21/13 . chapter 39_

Oh my dear lord! Some things are about to go badly off the chain.

Wonder how Shego's going to get clear of this, and if Kim's reversal of emotion makes her immune to the love ray...

Ron('s?) seem to be about to come out and really play and Anne seems about to take them up on that.

Loved Bonnie's 'welcome wagon' present to her sisters, nobody deserved less than them.

And the hover craft of wannabe love is about to land at Chez Ronald. Hope the landing ain't of the crash variety, after setting down...

CB73

**_Jeez, CB! You're so pessimistic! Really, what could go wrong here? Kim's a little tied up for the moment and her "muscle" has flown the coop. Dementor and DNAmy are AWOL. Drakken's still locked up in the robotics lab in the Colorado lair. I'm not sure where Falsetto Jones and Frugal Lucre are at the moment but I doubt they'd pose much of a threat to Shego at the moment. Motor Ed? I wonder what will happen when he finds out that it wasn't Shego invading his dreams and special ordering a super-dooper tricked-out ride? But about that Cupid Ray...I wouldn't be worrying so much about what she's going to do regarding Kimmie. I fear for another potential target on her horizon..._**

**_As for Anne? Well, we'll find out how that's going to go in the next chapter...along with a bunch of other "relationships."_**

**_I'd meant to bring Bonnie's sisters back before now but, as it turns out, I think they're showing up at just the right time. For maximum mayhem, that is..._**

**_And crash landings are my specialty! R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler1022/13 . chapter 39_

I now know how Anasi The Spider (of African folklore, not the fey stand-in from "Gargoyles" series two) felt when he got all eight legs stretched in different directions at the same time. I further have greater empathy for Eric Tiberius Duckman's weary resignation when his suburban hovel of a house was invaded for the thousandth time by armed lunatics.

Every time I *think* I've got a handle on things...the author (who I'm starting to suspected is either Sauron incarnate...or a roomful of Orangutans twisted on LSD and hammering away on laptops) pulls the rug right out from under me. The fact that if/when I go back and re-read previous chapters, everything in this one will appear perfectly logical and straightforward is NOT going to help my mental state in the slightest.

Which just means I'm going to be even *more* frantic until the next chapter is posted. This is, hands down, one of the best KP stories posted, and not simply because the author is taking things in an entirely new and novel direction, all while keeping everyone more-or-less within canon. Its one of those impossible-to-put-down reads. Just sayin'.

**_Goodness, Ubie! We took a vote here at Orangutan Central and nine out of ten monkeys said that you need to learn how to "marinate" from the Ronman._**

**_You are right, however, there is an actual plot behind all of the apparent disarray-there is plan behind every plot thread I drop in (however, if some dangle too long I forget where I was going). I need a Beta just for the sake of keeping me organized and reminding me which threads are growing cold and neglected._**

**_Anyway, thanks for the encouragement and I'll try a little harder to break your brain. ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 1022/13 . chapter 39_

Now this wasn't edgy or smutty...well in my opinion. I mean this is M rated so I don't think you crossed a line.  
>So Anne's coming around, 'the Ron' is off somewhere while Anti Kim just lost a bunch of her badness courtesy of the former villainess.<br>Also we have a new player, I think cousin Larry is up to badness level three.  
>ST-103<p>

**_Thanks. ST. Given some of the "T" and "M" stories here, it's hard to get a read on where some of the lines are. The first review for the first chapter of RSVP I scolded me, saying I should move my story to an Adult Fan Fiction site. That was chapter 1. I know, of course, that it's impossible to please all of our readers but I do want to be mindful of the boundaries and, of course, I don't want to be shut down..._**

**_As we'll see in the next chapter, Anne is still trying to find her place and I think Anti-Kim has even more reason to be majorly tweaked, now._**

**_And Cousin Larry? (Shudders uncontrollably) R~13_**

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><p><em>The Desert Fox 1022/13 . chapter 39_

Nope. The only thing that I'm mad about is that Kim didn't yell Ron's name (Ha-ha).

**_Don't worry, I'm saving the Ron/Khan yell for a better moment. It's too good to throw away on a lesser moment._**

Skipped through most of Anne's discussion with "Ron". Too much thinking. "Dang it Bobby. That boy ain't right."- Hank Hill; "Great, I'm defending the fort with a multiple personality." (See Ernest Scared Stupid)

**_I have to put that stuff in so people will think this is serious fiction and I can finally get nominated for a "Fannie" Award._**

Very sneaky of Shego.

**_Yeah, Shego can be sneaky and I'm afraid I've let some of her old attributes fade a bit. It was time to let her show a little of her old stealth abilities. Plus, you know, the audience demands for more KIGO..._**

I think part of the boredom is from what I've seen from other comments, don't read too many, is that this fic has been changed many times.

**_Not "changed" so much as edited for smoothness and continuity with some expanded scenes to fill the gaps in plot and character: the plot and story were kept intact and unchanged. But a work of this length can be exhausting for some readers plus the need to go back and reacquaint oneself with pervious scenes or plot points when something pops up that seems to reference something you're not quite sure of..._**

Hmm, we shall see. Never heard Larry's last name, he was always referred to as Larry or Cousin Larry.

**_You may be correct: I've seen wiki and web listings that identify him as Larry Possible but that does not necessarily constitute Cannon (Canon?). If one were going by "family traits" however, I think the nerdiness seems to point to Mr. Dr. Possible more than Anne. (Shrugs)_**

That is true about Ron being lonely on a personal level. Forgot about that.

**_Yeah, a lot of readers may think that Ron is a lucky dog but he's still in a lot of pain and the "real" Ron is not the one who's looking to "enjoy" the situation. But the best love stories don't start out with the boy and girl falling into bed too soon..._**

Yes, I'm referencing Ghost Dad. One of, I think three Bill Cosby movies that I've seen. The others being Fat Albert and Mother, Juggs and Speed. Although I didn't care for the latter movie.

**_Ah, Mother, Juggs, and Speed. Cosby, Welch, and Keitel. Or was Keitel, Juggs? It's been a long time. And for good reason._**

Nope, I was quoting Seven of Nine. As for me showing my age, that's what you think.

**_You don't want to know what I think: those 72 hour court-ordered psych evaluations put a real crimp in my weekends._**

Oh, it occurred to me that I forgot the Yakuza.  
>Scary gangsorganizations: Juppon Gatana (aka Ten Swords); The Shinsengumi (aka Wolfs of Mibu); The A-Laws (Gundam 00); The Titans (Zeta Gundam); Dr. J and his fellow mad scientists (Gundam Wing); The Back Draft Group (Zoids: New Century); OZ (Organization of the Zodiac); The Sith; Goggle (Nikita); Cleaners (also Nikita). I think that's it.

**_Oh Warriors-come out to pla-ay..._**

Keep up the good work.

**_Thanks! Keep up the good reviewing! R~13_**

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><p><strong><em>cybercorpsesnake chapter 39 . 1114/14_**

The melting of the minds will produce a more dangerous adversary. Shego will be killed for that. Well written chapter and dialogue.

Keep up the good work.

_**Yeah, Dark Kimmie will be in a mood to punish both Shego and Ronniekins! Green-eyed payback is a bi-well, it's gonna fearsome! Assuming DK can get the upper hand. R~13**_

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><p><em>tploy chapter 39 . 1224/15_

"It was a concept with merit, Larry thought as he finished logging the results of this latest conference. And an intriguing challenge: being the good guy pretending to be the bad guy to bring the other bad guys down." ... So, I take it that someone has been taking lessons from "THE GREEN HORNET" of all role models to follow ... Nicely written application there ...

_**Thanks! Now if Larry will only follow the Green Hornet script. Dark Kim might want to watch her back... R~13**_


	40. The Roaming Gnome

**Author's/Notes 1:****_ Maybe I've lulled you into a sense of security. That the RSVP Universe is warm and fuzzy. This story is still rated "M" so expect grown-up stuff. If you're of a "T" or Under mindset, you should have quit reading a long time ago. (Of course, that might explain the tapering off of reviewers…)_**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer - <strong>_This chapter's "Guest Disclaimer" is borrowed from Pinky Jo Curlytail: "Kim Possible and all related characters are the property of Disney and my use of them is for entertainment purposes only."_

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><p><strong>Chapter 40 – The Roaming Gnome<strong>

The Uptopian agent had disassembled half of her scoutcraft, looking for any electronic point of vulnerability.

An entry point for an external probe.

_The point of ingress for the mysterious presence that had assaulted her psyche while she was immersed in the data-stream._

She could find nothing.

Either her adversary had superior technology that rendered her own tech transparent.

Or there was some mystical, magical force at work here that she had no defense against.

So she was faced again with the seeming dilemma of her mission parameters and her own survival: should she "pull the trigger" and _execute_ this Ronald Stoppable who might or might not be the legendary "Big Blue" of Lowardian lore?

Or recruit him as an ally against this giggling...thing...that appeared to be stalking him, too?

First things first: she needed to put everything back together. She had been out of touch with her orbiter for too long.

Unfortunately, it would be many more hours before she would reconnect the sensor array and see the blinking light indicating a new arrival in earth orbit.

**RSVP**

Despite its short, stubby legs, it could move at surprising speeds. Still, its mission required stealth and it had to wait for the passageways to be clear of the humans before dashing from one hiding place to the next.

As it passed one living chamber it hesitated. For a moment it thought it could detect the voice of its target from behind the closed door.

But there was another voice, as well, and its purpose required secrecy so it moved on, seeking the place where it could fulfill its assignment more effectively.

**RSVP**

"Well, for one thing," Ron Stoppable was saying, looking suddenly looking bashful, "we have been discussing the reinforcing and cementing of key alliances…"

"I…see…" Anne Possible took a long, slow, deep breath. Let it out slowly. "Tell me…Ron. Am I a…key…_alliance_…? And would you like to…_cement_…me…?"

He had cocked his head as if listening to something moving outside, in the hallway. His eyes flashed blue for the briefest of moments. And then he turned his attention back to her.

"Oh, Anne…" He sighed and looked down at the floor. "You would try the virtue of a saint. You shine brighter than all of the others put together! And—were all things as they presently appear—I…we…_all_ of us…would take you to our heart and make you our wife, lover, mother of our children…we would choose _you_…

"…_if_ all was as it seems."

"So…" Anne asked, "…what do you know that I do not?" Her face was a mixture of longing and loss.

"That your daughter—though lost for now—still lives. And, if we know anything about the Possible women, it is to never count them out until the story is truly done. I believe that they will meet again, she and Ron, face to face, someday. And when that day comes, should she find him in the arms of another woman, it would be best for all of us that those arms not be yours. For her sake. For your sake. And probably even for his sake..." He paused. "But that is not the only reason…"

**RSVP**

The pale blonde woman leaned forward in her wheelchair and studied the machine next to the hospital bed. "What is it?" she asked.

The young man in the bed closed his eyes and sighed. "It's a dialysis machine."

"What's it do?"

"It filters the poison out of my blood."

Her eyes grew wide. "You've been poisoned?"

He tried to frown but it was difficult because the blonde usually made him laugh and her visits over the past couple of weeks had been the one thing he had to look forward too since coming out of the intensive surgery and medically induced coma that had had saved his life against all odds.

"I was stabbed in the back by a synthodrone and I lost a kidney," he answered softly. "My good kidney. The other was damaged on a mission a couple of years ago by an exploding golf ball. It can't keep up with the toxins that build up in my blood over time. The dialysis machine acts like an artificial kidney, filtering out the poisons until I can get a transplant."

"Huh," the blonde said. "What will they think of next?" She studied the machine a little more and the tubes that carried the blood from the young man's body to the machine and back again. "They tell me that I'm rich, you know. I could probably buy you one…"

"What? A dialysis machine?"

"A kidney, duh, Billy! Though I don't know how you go about buying one. But I could get you one of these dial-out machines if you'd rather."

He smiled gently. "That's sweet, C. But you can't buy a kidney. I just have to wait until one becomes available on the transplant list. And I get to the top of said list. A dialysis machine will keep me alive but I can't return to active duty as long as I have to keep up these sessions on a regular basis."

She reached out and took his hand in hers. "I'm so sorry: I know your job is very important to you. But I have to confess I have a selfish desire for you to stay here just a little longer. I'd be very lonely without our visits together."

His other hand came over to caress hers. "Your memories…"

"Still pretty much gone," she told him. "The doctors tell me they may never return. Still, for the amount of time that my brain was deprived of oxygen, I'm just lucky that I'm not drooling and wearing adult diapers."

"Well, he told her, giving her hands a squeeze, "once we're both out of here, maybe we can make some new memories…together."

She blushed. "I'd really like that.

**RSVP**

"If not me," Anne asked, her eyes large and luminous, "then what of any other woman Kim might find him with when she returns?"

"Annie," Z-Ron chided, "there's _you_…and then there is _any_ other woman. _All _other women might be interchangeable for the purpose of this discussion. But _you_ are not. You're Kim's mother..."

"So you do remember her!" she interrupted.

"Of course we remember her," Z-Ron said forcefully. "But HE does not. The bindings on his memories are complex and difficult to dislodge without risking damage to his higher functionality. They have begun to...crack...stress fracture...in a few places. But we have no idea when or if the core of Ronald Prime will begin to remember who Kim truly is and where she belongs..." He closed his eyes briefly. "..._belonged_...in his life..."

"But there's a chance?" she asked, shaken at this new revelation.

He shrugged. "I do not know. I don't even know if that would be a good thing after all. For either of them." Then he refocused his gaze on Anne with a laser-like intensity. "But, either way, I believe that there is a real potential for disaster given your histories. You've been like a second mother to Ron," he elaborated.

"As we," he continued, gesturing to himself, "are not the _core _Ron Stoppable, _we_ do not have the same perspective and would take you _any_ and all ways that you would be willing. But for the _core _Ron, that would be—as he would say—_wrongsick_ on so many levels. And even if he could reset his world-view—should Kim return and his memories were restored, the damage done to her would be as good as done to him, as well. Your marital status has changed and your youth has been restored, but the relationships that have defined your lives are _still_ a part of all of your histories. So, if and when Kim does return, finding the two of you in a romantic relationship would only cause more hurt and heartache all around."

"She'll be hurt if she finds him in the arms of _another_ woman, too," Anne argued.

"That's different. They wouldn't be her _mother_. They wouldn't be the woman who practically raised _him_. It might tweak her. But it wouldn't break her. But, again, that's not the main reason why you cannot pursue Ron right now…"

**RSVP**

The thing that looked like a gnome but wasn't hesitated at the end of the hallway. The sound of footfalls on carpet indicated that one of the humans was approaching the corner and would shortly make the turn and discover the diminutive intruder.

There were no nearby alcoves to duck into.

The hallway behind it was too long to backtrack in time.

It bent its stubby, red-clad legs and jumped. Tiny thrusters in its little brown boots assisted in lifting it up to the ceiling in the blink of an eye.

It hovered there, a good eight feet off the ground as an African American girl rounded the corner.

She stopped beneath the small intruder and stood there for a moment, her hands on her hips, while she regarded the empty corridor with a frown.

After a moment, she walked slowly ahead, pausing near each door, as if listening for something while trying to appear not to.

Eventually she reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner.

A moment later a Hispanic girl peeked around the first corner and then tip-toed after the first girl as if quietly stalking her.

As soon as both were gone and corridor was empty, the "gnome" considered how it might get back down.

It tried waving its short little arms and kicking its stubby little legs.

Unfortunately, the force of its rocket assisted leap had embedded its large, pointy hat a good four inches into the ceiling.

It was stuck fast.

**RSVP**

The Lowardian starship slipped into a low earth orbit and immediately began scanning for any sight of Warhok's and Warmonga's vessel.

There was nothing. Not even a debris field.

Either their ship had left orbit and traveled somewhere else or had gone down to the planet, itself.

As the star cruiser was not designed for planetary landing, it would have either crashed or been shot down.

A quick scan of the planet's current levels of technology suggested the possibility of Warhok and Warmonga being overcome by the puny Earthians a very unlikely scenario at best. Still, a quick scan for Lowardian signatures planetside was a logical step before breaking orbit and searching nearby star systems for the missing expedition.

**RSVP**

Although every instinct screamed at her to leave as quickly as possible—heh—_there_ was a pun…

…she knew that this was an opportunity.

A whole bunch of opportunities.

So, first she tore up the bed sheets and secured Kim's thrashing legs, buying her a little more time.

Then she went through the drawers of her bedroom and the adjoining bathroom. A nail file, a pair of tweezers, and some tiny scissors seemed to be the best she could hope for in surgical tools.

Straddling the former teen hero's chest wasn't sufficient to keep her still so Shego tapped her between the eyes with a plasma-infused finger, rendering her temporarily senseless.

Which was just as well: prying the flashing red chip out of Kim's forehead was delicate and bloody work.

"You may still hate him when you wake up, Princess," she told the unconscious girl. "But at least you'll hate him on your own terms and not because of some messed up, mood-altering technology."

Unfortunately, the former villainess knew nothing of the part that Jackie Oakes cursed Anubis pendant played in Dark Kim's transformation.

**RSVP**

"Remember Jessica?" Z-Ron asked. "As far fetched as it sounds, I believe that she really was in Ron Stoppable's house just before it exploded." He raised a hand to cut off her protest and continued.

"Her story was that she and that other cheerleader, Liz, had dressed up like Ron and Kim and had stopped off on Ron's front porch to snap a couple of selfies with their cell phones. She said that they were surprised by Mr. Stoppable, Ron's dad, and were dragged inside to explain their selves. You even told us that you heard him going to the door and bringing someone inside as you headed down the hall to use the restroom…which would explain why she says that she didn't see you there with Mr. Dr. Possible."

Anne shook her head. "I didn't see or hear who came in. And I don't know that her testimony is particularly certifiable…"

Z-Ron nodded. "I know. The theory begs the question of time-travel. And/or wormholes. But, consider this: there were no bodies recovered from the ashes after the fire. While it is possible that five bodies would be totally consumed by the fire, it's highly unlikely. Most house fires do leave some degree of remains if someone was trapped inside. For five bodies to disappear without a trace? It raises the question of alternative possibilities.

"Then there's the issue of Jessica's and Liz's disappearance. Where were they for all of those weeks?"

Anne frowned. "Liz is still missing."

"Along with Justine Flanner and Wade Load who, between the two of them could probably build a device like the one she described. And then there's Felix Renton and his mother. They're both missing, as well. And then there's the question of the force field surrounding your house…"

Anne put a hand to her head. "I'd forgotten. I—I haven't been myself for awhile…"

He nodded. "I think you've been great! And now you're even better." He took her hand in his and smiled. "But maybe you're still not quite yourself, yet.

"Wh—what do you mean?"

**RSVP**

Big Daddy Brotherson dipped the tongs into the bubbling cauldron of mustard-colored goodness and extracted his prize.

He held it in place so that the dripping juices would fall back into the Fry-Baby while he turned the controls to "off".

It would take a few more minutes to cool so he reached blindly for a paper towel to fold and place beneath the crispy confection.

Before he could do so, however, the deep-fried Twinkie exploded, showering him and the kitchen counter top with a maelstrom of crispy crumbs and crystalized creme-filling!

The crack of the whip echoed through the room almost as an afterthought.

He looked up with fear-widened eyes at the creature standing in the doorway to the dining room.

The black, thigh-high boots had retractable heels for running and jumping but, just now, they were extended a good two to three inches, turning the toned legs above into twin marvels of feminine musculature. The purple boy-shorts were formfitting but armored well beyond their spandex-like appearance. The same for the matching crop top above with plunging neckline and the turned-out high collar. She had opted for a subtler version of the utility belt, he noticed, and dropped the cape and domino mask.

At least for the moment.

Right now she was recoiling her whip and hooking it back on her hip.

"I thought I had found all of your hidey-holes," she scolded him with a sigh. She peeled off a gauntlet and held out her hand. "Where are the rest?"

"That was my last one," he protested with a petulant lip thrust, not unlike the Puppy-dog Pout.

"Is that how you want to play this?" she asked, pulling the glove back on and cocking a hip.

The hip with the whip.

He licked his suddenly dry lips.

"It's the truth," he whined.

She unhooked the long tail of braided leather. "Fine," she pouted back. "I need the practice..."

"Amelia...eiyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

**RSVP**

The long white robe had been taken in...

Drastically!

He stared at the long expanse of leg, laid bare now the hem had been slashed diagonally and taken up in a cinch at one hip.

She caught his stare and frowned. "I kept getting my legs tangled up in all of that material," she grumped.

"I think it's a wonderful improvement," Timothy North told his new wife. "Legs like those should be shared with the world!"

"I suppose I can distract the bad guys with them," she harrumphed. "I'm just so used to covering them up all these years...varicose veins..."

"Gone now," her husband reassured her. "If you've got it, flaunt it! And, Baby, you've got it!"

"Right back at you, you old geezer!" she smirked.

"Hey," he struck a pose and flexed, giving her a little tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Can an old geezer do this?" The seams of his t-shirt split just above his suddenly bulging biceps. "Do I look like an old geezer?

She shook her head with a bemused smile and her long hair, now dark and lustrous again, came unpinned and floated down around her youthful face. "You look like a Greek god..." Her expression turned thoughtful. "Timothy...when are we going to tell the children?"

"Soon, my dearest," he answered, hefting a large and wicked looking mallet. "I'd just like to try a little crime-fighting in our new costumes, first." He took a few practice swings with the long handled hammer. "You know, before the lecturing starts..." He changed his voice to do an awful mimicry of her family members. "Now, Mr. North, you're only an actor, you were never a real super-hero...Mother, what do you think you're doing?...Nana, you should leave the real villains to Ron and me...don't you think you should lie down and rest? Oh, merciful heavens! Not in the same bed!"

By the time he was mock-wailing: "My eyes! My eyes!" she was doubled over in laughter.

"Yes," she finally admitted, wiping the tears from her eyes, "I can just imagine! Especially since it sounds like me in my 'old biddy' mode! It would be just what I deserve!"

Timothy North put the odd-looking weapon down and began pulling off his ripped t-shirt. "We'll tell 'em, Nancy. And soon. I just want one or two dry runs, first..."

**RSVP**

Dr. Vivian Francis Porter was exhausted. She had been working on the building's defenses for days, now, and Rockwaller wanted her to spend more time on P.T. and teaching the other girls more self defense moves.

Everyone else seemed to need something from her.

And her time-priorities for what Ron needed were already pushing her to her limits...

What about her?

Vivian had saved his life!

Well…the B-bots had retrieved him from that radioactive nuclear plant…but she had gotten him into that naval hospital in Japan.

And had arranged for his flight back to Middleton.

And had arranged for that famous brain surgeon to treat him.

And had helped defend him against those WWEE characters who were going to kidnap him from the hospital.

And had gone over to the Middle East to help take down the crazy golfer who had killed his parents.

When was she going to get a "thank you"?

Oh, he had said: "Thank you."

But talk was cheap.

How about a real THANK YOU!

She was a "smart" girl.

She knew that she had competition for his attention.

But she was smarter than _them_.

She had gifts and talents to bring to the table that the others couldn't possibly match or compete with.

Still…

There was a subtle yet clearly measureable increase in the other girls' epidermal displays lately.

Yes, Spring was starting to turn into Summer…

But the amount of skin on display was edging ahead of what the weather normally required.

She was being outmaneuvered by a bunch of post pubescent chippies who were competing on a baser level.

Well, she thought, looking down at the swell of bosom straining against the sweaty, grease stained T-shirt that she wore to work on the heat converters, she was more than equipped to compete on that level, as well.

Picking up her cell phone she whipped out a quick text-message to Ron and began making preparations for _Operation: Thank You Very Much!_

**RSVP**

"Um, a little help here?" Wade asked, trying to not show too much irritation at the PDA exhibition taking place in Felix Renton's wheelchair.

Justine Flanner broke her lip-lock with her recently retrieved boyfriend just long enough to scowl at her fellow genius and say: "Five more minutes, Load!"

"Can I help?" Liz asked, scooting her chair over next to the African American boy.

"Uh, uh, that's awful—um—sweet, 'Lizbeth," he answered as his fingers flew over the keyboard, "but this is like—um—"

"Genius stuff?" Jim Possible offered.

"Lemme see," Tim Possible jumped in.

Cece suddenly stood up. "Warning! Warning!" she intoned. "Sensors detect—"

An explosion rocked the house, interrupting all of them.

**RSVP**

Two women walked through the curiously empty corridors of the apartment area of the warehouse.

Two women with a twisted purpose...

Two women in search of Ron Stoppable.

One woman had garishly red hair and wore what appeared to be a green, one-piece swimsuit with a plunging neckline. A green swimsuit covered in leafy vines and climbing plants that wrapped around her shapely torso, cinching in her waist and circling her breasts like cylindrical frames.

The other woman wore a skin-tight harlequin costume and headpiece done out in red and black. Her pale skin was accentuated with black lipstick and a black domino mask. The barest hint of blonde curls peeked out from her headpiece.

"Maybe he's not even in the building," the blonde moaned. "He might be somewhere else. He could be gone for hours!"

"Settle down, H," the redhead snapped. "If our intel is correct, he's around here somewhere. Probably shacked up with someone in his little harem."

"I don't think his harem is so little, Ivy." She tugged a little at her headpiece and a bell on the end of a tassel jingled. "Maybe there's too many for us to handle…"

The redhead cracked her knuckles. "Numbers don't matter," she snarled. "We'll just take them out one at a time if they get between us and him…"

**RSVP**

"My point is," the Ron who wasn't the real Ron continued, "is that there is sufficient reason to believe that the inhabitants of the Stoppable house were not killed in the explosion but were…retrieved…by some means just before its destruction."

"Based on Jessica's story?" Anne asked, at once argumentative and still wanting to believe.

"That, and the lack of forensic evidence of bodily remains."

"Sooooo…" She shivered. "…you're saying that the others are still alive…"

"Still alive," he answered, "or yet alive."

"Yet alive?"

"Perhaps already rescued but still in hiding," he qualified, "or yet to be retrieved from the past and so potentially alive until the actual process is completed."

"And Jimmy…"

"Your husband is probably not dead, Anne—you may not be a widow, after all."

**RSVP**

Had there been a single explosion, they might have had sufficient time to recover.

Instead, the initial blast was followed by a series of explosive bursts, punctuated by heavy thuds above their heads as if a group of giants had breached the force field and were now tearing the Possible house apart!

A chunk of the ceiling disappeared above their heads as the living room floor was ripped up.

A large form landed in their midst and slowly stood in a haze of dust and debris. It was humanoid in form but easily stood nine feet tall. Its skin was green and marked with tribal tattoos in red ink. It wore an abbreviated costume of purple and black with a red-lined cape. Its head was shaved except for a long, flowing topknot of ebony hair. Slowly it turned and regarded them with black-rimmed eyes of pure and almost glowing white. It held a three-pronged staff that looked like a purple and orange trident in its massive hand.

Another gigantic form landed behind him. It looked like a woman. And eight-foot-tall woman with green skin wearing an off-the-shoulder purple tunic. Though her head was not shaved in the manner of her companion, her long, black hair was pulled upward and hung back down like a vertical ponytail.

"I see nothing among these alien scum that poses a threat," the first giant growled. "And certainly none of them could be an avatar of The Great Blue!"

"Then you should have no difficulty in preventing any interference while I retrieve the artifact," the other creature answered. She turned and examined the parts of the device that housed the pan-dimensional vortex inducer while the stunned occupants of the Possible basement stared in shock. Then the giant green woman began to rip away the intricately wired panels that surrounded the powerful device.

Justine Flanner leaped from her boyfriend's lap and ran towards the machine. "Stop that! You—"

The male giant swept its trident so quickly the others in the basement weren't sure what had happened.

There was an arc of color and a crackling sound. As the staff swung, Liz utilized her cheerleading skills and reflexes, pulling Wade out of his chair and dumping him on the floor.

The adolescent was still recovering from his gunshot wound and cried out in pain as his back impacted upon the hard, concrete floor. He cried out again as he saw the redheaded cheerleader's head go flying through the air, completely severed from her body by the terminus point of the arc of the swinging staff. Groaning in pain, he rolled over to try to crawl to safety, only to start screaming as he saw Justine Flanner lying just ahead of him.

Or only _half_ of her to be more precise.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: The Roaming Gnome is, of course, a riff on those Travelocity commercials but we really do seem to have an active garden gnome on the premises as if in answer to young Ron's deepest fears and nightmares. What is it and where did it come from? You'll just have to stay tuned...<strong>

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><p><strong>AN 2:****_ A little short, I know, but I think this is a good place to stop for now..._**

**_(11/24/14) A little longer now with two new scenes..._**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 40<strong>

_Sentinel103 11/6/13 . chapter 40_

Oh boy starting to pare down the cast a little huh Rippy? Or is this another universe which Ron (once he gets back together...or rather all his stuff in one sock!) fixes all this.

_**I'm leaning toward the Bobby Ewing in the shower/Dallas/It was all a dream scenario at the end of my story...**_

SO a perspective Ron enlightens Anne about the Possibility that she may not be a widow.

**_As long as nobody messes with Justine Flanner's wormhole thingie...Oops!_**

And on another note Shego is making sure and anti-Kim becomes Kimmie again.

**_Is that a good thing? For Ron, I mean..._**

Good luck, man is CB gonna be happy you're not going for another re-write. LOL  
>ST-103<p>

**_Ah, I'm afraid CajunBear (and some others) are destined for some eventual disappointment. ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler 116/13 . chapter 40_

Um, what just happened? I'm not sure who or what is going on here.

**_If you did, I wouldn't be doing my job._**

Well, okay, its obvious the Lowardians have finally shown up (and added a bit to the body count). And a couple of the girls are making their move on Ron. And Anne is finally getting a clue about the bigger picture.

**_A "couple" of the girls?_**

But the rest of it? A stealth gnome?

**_Oooooo! A "stealth" gnome! I like it. I'll start using it next chapter!_**

And I presume that was Big Daddy discussing failed kidneys, right?

**_Nope._**

Exactly when did all this become relevant? Watching Jonin Han direct her simian shinobi seems a bit more...sane.

**_Maybe more sane but Big Daddy is not a young man and Amelia is not a blonde so the scene about the dialysis involves a couple of other characters who have been offstage for awhile..._**

Still, any continuance of this storyline is most welcome. Please don't keep us waiting forever (which you know us loyal readers will actually do).

**_What? All four of you? Maybe I should stop posting chapters here and just send them via PM to my loyal reviewers... ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 116/13 . chapter 40_

Oh boy, some serious stuff just went down here. Hope the latest 'visitors' get their comeuppance...Oy.

**_Comeuppance? By the time they're done, they'll need more than a little "comeuppance." Justine & Liz? Only the first two casualties..._**

Other things moving along now. Shego may bring Kim back somewhat,

**_Somewhat..._**

Anne seems to be learning what may be, while others are stalking around the house, and that invasion at the Possible Home may just wreck so many things 'Ron' spoke about...

**_Wreck? Oh yes! Glad you picked up on that. No one else has referred to what a disaster this little housecall is shaping up to be-aside from the immediate body-count, that is. One very big monkey-wrench in the works! R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 116/13 . chapter 40_

Hooray, the alien spy is back. Hmm, looks like Ron is getting his mystical monkey powers back. I'm kind of partial to awkweird.

**_Somehow I am not terribly surprised..._**

I must say that was rather clever of Shego in these past chapters. She probably had this planned all along. Hopefully she will use this for good. Ron would be sad if she didn't.

**_Back in Chapter 36 we learned that Shego was gathering intel to help keep Ron safe even though she didn't plan on going back on a permanent basis. But I'd say that things worked out to provide opportunities beyond her expectations._**

Didn't see that one coming: Justine concerned with making out than with anything else.

**_Had to give her a little happiness before taking her out of the equation._**

I hope you will explain why Ivy and Harley are there. Hmm, will have to look to see if I missed it in another chapter. BTW: Other than Ivy or Pammy, Harley has been known to call Poison Ivy, Red.

**_Oh, yes. An explanation for Ivy & Harley is forthcoming. Easy enough if there's a pan-dimensional whatsis in the mix. But you know I don't do "easy"._**

Khan? Genghis Khan? Or is it Ögedei or Kublai Khan; maybe Möngke, Toloui, or perhaps Güyük.

**_Oh, Foxy; you know I meant Admiral Kirk's: "Khaaaaaaaan!" from ST3:The Search for Spock. Or maybe New-Spock's: "Khaaaaaaaan!" from ST: Into Darkness._**

Serious fiction? I kind of doubt it.

**_{Gasps, clutches chest}_**

Yeah, they're obsessed with Kigo. Me, other than Ron/Kim I like Kim/Bonnie.

**_Whatever floats your boat. As long as its not incest. Or beastiality. Or pediphilia. None of those on the menu, here..._**

Changed, edited, whatever.

**_That's my story and I'm sticking to it._**

I'd go with Cannon. Anyways unless it's officially sanctioned it's not cannon. Mrs. Possible is nerdy too. Besides, Nana Possible isn't.

**_Cannon remains hazy on this point: please shake the magic 8-ball and ask again..._**

Really? Then what about "the Holiday" Cameron Diaz and Jude Law hop into bed. Juggs was Welch.

_**I know Juggs was Welch. Attempting humor. Should have inserted a smileyface emoticon.**_

Uh-huh. Right. Don't believe you for one minute. Oh and the organizations I listed. You wouldn't want to cross them in a dark alley. Of course it should also be noted that the Shinsengumi actually existed. They lived during the Meiji Era.

**_I still think Ron would be safer facing them than dealing with Kim right now, chip or no chip! R~13_**

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><p><em>Chuckikillu112 117/13 . chapter 40_

They say the monkey king was born of stone, atop a mountain of flowers and fruit. It is said that when he fights it is like magic, he stands up to the forces of darkness, with the power of a shape shifter, as well as his knowledge of magic. The Monkey king defied the dark, and fought with mischief, as well as magic. The Supreme God Emperor was taken with the Monkey so much, he named said monkey the king of all his kind.

**_Oooooooo, I like this!_**

Riplakish, I know I am a lowly reviewer, as well as the maker of no stories, but I ask you this, would there be any better way to finish this story than to have Ron become a legend to the rest of his world. The lotus blade is mystical artifact, but what if were more than that. What if when ron becomes one with his other personalities, something impossible and amazing happened to him? What if the blade became what it was meant to be, a staff. What if Ron became the MONKEY KING! I mean the true monkey king, I mean it was always monkey fiskes goal, what if Ron achieved that goal, where Monty could not

**_Hang in there, Chuck: the journey may seem long and convoluted but I think you'll find the destination more than a little rewarding, once we get there! (Imaging that scene at the end of the first Schwartzenegger/Conan film with Ahnold slouched on a throne, crown on head, sword at hand...mmmmmmmm) R~13_**

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><p><em>GabrielBlade 117/13 . chapter 40_

Having just, in the past 48 hours, read the entirety of RSVP 1 and 2 (published to date), I feel like I'm in a good position to say this:  
>There's something so wrong with this story that its so, so right.<br>Please keep breaking my mind with every chapter. And please post the next one soon, I don't think I can wait much longer! I need my crazy fix!

**_Aw, thanks man! Zombies eat brains, I just like to play with them. And I promise to give them back when I'm done. R~13_**


	41. Things Fall Apart

**Required Disclaimer:** _Guest Disclaimer (hey, after 82+ chapters I've run out of original was to disclaim, myself) lifted from Old Soldier: "Kim Possible belongs to Disney, only the story is mine; I'm just doing this for fits and giggles."_

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><p><strong>Chapter 41 – Things Fall Apart…<strong>

Dr. Vivian Porter was still exhausted.

She should have spent a couple of days catching up on her sleep after her adventure in Babastan. But things had turned rather frenzied upon their return from the failed mission to grab Duff Killigan.

Then there was that damned zombie monkey army.

And the killer Bonnie-bot.

And the psycho supermodels.

And the sense that these were just the tip of the iceberg.

So.

Security was Priority Number One.

She had spent every waking hour since then working on scanners and alarms for every window and door in the warehouse. And the underground passages that fed the sewers and storm drains, as well. Roof access.

All glass was replaced with bullet-proof glass. Doors with blast-resistant versions where possible.

Then there was the work on rooftop missiles, drones, and particle-beam weapons. Lasers—both perimeter defense and interior security measures.

Force-projectors.

And, of course, the martial arts and firearm training for all of the residents and staff.

So, she was exhausted.

But still working as she started reassembling Dede's left arm after installing and upgrading her onboard weapons systems. The good thing about all of this work was that Ron was intimately involved with the concepts and designs of these upgrades and met with her at least once a day to suggest tweaks or see if she needed anything.

As it turned out, he was very handy in this particular area: the crazy-mad tech skills of Zorpox the Conqueror were starting to surface as Ron seemed to integrate more and more of his fragmented talents and personalities into the primary mix.

But, so far, their frequent get-togethers were all business. Respectful, friendly, but ultimately unrewarding in the social sense. The intimate social sense, that is.

And now he was late for this evening's scheduled meet.

She had turned up the thermostat in her fourth floor workshop so that it was as warm as a summer's day. Warmer than most. The heat had necessitated her stripping back down to a pair of short shorts and knotting her beater-tee under her breasts to bare her sweat-slicked torso. The ribbed cotton was damp and clung to her bosom like a second skin, outlining every curve, bump, and texture of her impressive bosom.

Hopefully the oppressive heat would force her boss to do a little stripping, too.

Now, if she could finish up her work on Dede and get the bot out so she could have a little more privacy when Ron arrived.

"Dr. Porter," the robot said, as she closed the polymer outer flesh over the metal exoskeleton of the creature's arm. "May I ask a favor?"

Vivian had learned the hard way to not say "Sure" before finding out just what she might be committing to. "What sort of favor?"

"An upgrade."

"Another weapons system?" she asked.

"Negative."

It was little things like her choice of words here that reminded one that they were dealing with a lifelike mechanical woman and not a flesh and blood human...though sometimes it was a difficult distinction to make even then.

"It is more related to functionality," the B-bot continued.

Vivian frowned. "Is your functionality impaired, Dede?"

"In a way. I currently lack functionality in certain areas that prevent me from fulfilling certain aspects of my Prime Directive."

The B-bots Prime Directive, as Dr. Porter knew, was supposed to have been: "_Save_ Ron Stoppable at all costs." The code was hurriedly entered into their programming by Dr. Freeman when they were attempting to retrieve him from the Genpatsu nuclear facility during the reactor leak. But there was a typo as the code was uploaded and, instead, the three robot women's Prime Directive was changed to "_Serve_ Ron Stoppable at all costs!"

The difference seemed unimportant and benign so far, so it hadn't been tinkered with.

"What kind of an upgrade are we talking about?" the blonde roboticist asked.

"I have done much of the research and prep work, myself," Dede answered. "After determining the potential need and researching for functionality as well as esthetic values, I experimented with a number of designs that would produce the sensate experiences necessary to duplicate the biological model. Once the appending structure and mechanics are installed and anchored, I can inject additional polymers and direct the nanites to coat the silicone, gelatin, and foam latex components and morph into the proper textures, layers, and colors for a natural appearance and optimum functionality."

The stunning brunette produced a metal and plastic cage that look a little like a pyramid with curves and rounded corners.

Vivian took the device in her hands and turned it over and over again, trying to ascertain its purpose. "I'm sorry," she finally admitted, "but I don't know what this is supposed to be."

"It is meant to be a vagina, Dr. Porter. Cybernetic, of course."

**RSVP**

It took a couple of trips to load the hoverpod with her haul. Shego didn't really take that much but wanted to make sure that her movements appeared to be casual and not appear to be making a hasty exit from Dark Kim's temporary HQ with an armload of plunder.

As it turned out, the mansion that had formerly belonged to a Columbian drug lord was sparsely staffed and most of that by hired servants: maids, cooks, groundskeepers. There was no sign of Adrena Lynn or Kim's former cheerleader buddies. Most of the serious villains in the Dark Kim alliance were apparently off working on coordinated plots that required their presence elsewhere.

Maybe it was just as well: asking anyone there to free Kim after she left could run the risk of the former teen heroine being taken advantage of while she was still helpless. The old saying that there was "no honor among thieves" came to mind and Shego didn't know that the hired help could be trusted. So, on her final trip out of the mansion, she placed a nail file in Kim's left hand.

"I know it's not your dominant hand, Pumpkin," she told her as Kim glared at her from over her gag. "And that reaching the bindings on your wrist will be a little awkward one-handed. But you are the-girl-who-can-do-anything and I need some time for a head start…"

Even as she spoke, her redheaded nemesis rotated the file in her fingers and began sawing at cloth that held her captive.

Shego sighed and pulled out the Cupid Ray and bathed Kim in another stream of electric pink hearts.

The bound girl relaxed and then began to squirm in a more "friendly" manner while making goo-goo eyes at the mint-skinned woman.

"Sorry, Kiddo. But I'd like a really _good_ head start. But I wouldn't dawdle too long if I were you: if Motor Ed comes back and finds you like this…" She shook her head at Kim's widening eyes. "Seriously!"

**RSVP**

Captain Shaula Lesath sent a tersely worded, scrambled message to her homeworld, via subspace tightbeam. Moments later her scoutcraft lifted into the air, just outside of Upperton, and headed for Middleton, Colorado under heavy cloak.

The appearance of a Lowardian light battle-cruiser meant that things were about to get "interesting".

Like "Planetary Doom" kind of interesting.

**RSVP**

After about two dozen kicks and leg lifts, the "gnome" managed to loosen its cone-shaped hat from its penetration point in the corridor's ceiling. Slowing its fall to the carpeted floor with a short burst of the thrusters concealed in its boots, it made a soft landing and once again set off in search of its target.

**RSVP**

The Global Justice agent entered the hospital room and grimaced when she saw the pale blonde woman in the wheelchair next to her assignee's bed.

"We need to talk," the uniformed woman announced, scarcely concealing her irritation.

The young man looked up at her from his hospital bed and smiled. It was an unusual look for him. "Okay, Mandy. go ahead: talk…"

The agent cocked her head at his visitor. "Not in front of civilians."

He sighed. Patting the blonde woman's hand, he said: "Give us a few minutes, Camille. Duty calls…even though I'm off active duty for the foreseeable future," he added, with a meaningful look at the new arrival.

Camille Leon nodded with a soft smile and turned her wheelchair toward the door. "Back in five, Billy?"

He looked at the attaché who was already tapping her foot. "Better make it fifteen. Somebody's got their panties in a twist and this might take a little time."

As soon as the former criminal debutant was out the door, Agent Amanda B. Reckonwith approached the bed and pulled up a chair in the spot just occupied by the blonde heiress just a moment before.

"The director wants to see you," she told him.

He blinked. "I heard that Betty was on leave…"

Reckonwith shook her head. "Not Betty Director. The new director. Warren Pease. He thinks you're the man to handle this assignment because you've worked with him before."

"Pease?"

"No. Ron Stoppable."

The young man blinked in confusion. "The amateur? I mean, the other amateur? Why? Does he know where we can find Kim Possible?"

Agent Reckonworth snorted. "No. And that's the problem. None of them do."

"I don't understand."

"There are four of him."

The young man had a sick look on his face, now. "Four Ron Stoppables?"

Reckonwith nodded. And none of them the original. In fact, they're the Stoppable version from his Junior year in high school."

Will Du closed his eyes with a sigh. "Clones," he hissed, "why did it have to be clones?"

**RSVP**

Anne Possible made her way back to her apartment without having to drag a sleeve across her eyes more than twice.

Or maybe it was three times.

Or maybe not: her eyes were blurry enough so that when she got there, she almost missed the present that had been left outside her door, in the hallway.

She picked it up while she fumbled her key into the lock and noticed the little note on the ribbon, tied around the little statue's neck: "To Anne. From a Friend" it read.

She stepped inside her apartment and didn't bother to turn on the light. She set it on top of her dresser and then began unbuttoning her blouse on her way into the bathroom.

As the sound of running water started up from the next room, the "gnome's" eyes began to glow.

**RSVP**

Adrena Lynn had just spotted the warehouse a block away from the Upperton campus when the proximity alarms went off.

"What's that?" Marcella asked, looking over the blonde woman's shoulder as she prepared to take evasive maneuvers.

"We've got multiple incomings!" Lynn yelled as she jerked the steering yoke to the left and down. "Strap in, ladies!"

The hoverpod carrying Crystal, Hope, and Marcella back to Ron Stoppable swooped over and skimmed the treetops but the blips on the craft's radar just tagged along like a trio of hunting falcons shadowing their prey.

The blonde villainess pulled back on the yoke but the three smaller signatures were faster and more maneuverable, climbing right alongside. "Drones?" she whispered. "Since when did the Tri-Cities area get drones?"

An automated voice crackled over the speakers: "Unidentified craft; please state your business in this airspace or leave immediately before you are shot down."

Hope reached over and grabbed the microphone. "It's Hope! And Marcella and Crystal! We're back! We're here to see Ron Stoppable!"

Adrena Lynn growled: "Give me that!"

But before she could retrieve the mic, the voice responded: "Voice-print analysis confirmed. Welcome back Hope, Marcella, Crystal. Please follow your escorts to the designated landing area on the roof. Ron Stoppable will be notified of your arrival."

**RSVP**

Bonnie Rockwaller felt a growing sense of trepidation as she returned from her night class. Should she go back to the apartment she currently shared with Tara? Or should she kill a little more time in hopes that Tara would be asleep when she finally put her key in the lock?

She decided to stall while deciding whether or not to stall. Instead of heading upstairs, she took a little detour into the restaurant area of the block-long building and sat down in the dark at one of the tables in the dining area.

Well, not in the dark, exactly. There was a little light. Recessed lights bordering the ceiling cast a dim glow even dialed down as they were for the night. And someone had left the planetarium effects on, turning the central dome into a starry night that seemed to turn with the earth's rotation. What was it Ron had said when she questioned him about the extra line in the lighting budget for his restaurant? _I want my guests to dine under the stars even when the skies are cloudy_, he'd said.

She had started to scold him for his extravagance but he had smiled and put an arm around her shoulders and murmured, _I want the people who come here to be happy. I want them to come and not want to leave…_

That had triggered another Business 101 lecture about the need for frequent customer turn-over to leverage higher profit yields. But he had just laid a (very kissable) finger against her lips, given her shoulders a little squeeze, and said: _It's only money, Bon Bon. And if money can buy happiness in this instance, it will be money well spent._

She laid her own finger to her lips now, imagining that it was his once more, and leaned back in her chair under his starry, starry night, alternately smiling and cursing herself for a fool.

He was right, of course.

His restaurant was going to be amazing!

Not just because it would offer world-class cuisine.

But because there was something in the man—yes, man—who knew something about serving people. All those years of following Possible around the world, braving dangers and fighting freaks—even on school nights—were about serving. Serving Possible. Serving people. Serving something greater than himself. Passing through the crucible that was high school and Barkin and the anonymity of Possible's shadow and not being broken or bitter or envious when the glory went to others, the rewards passed him by and his name was forgotten or bungled by those who owed him the most…

Yes, this restaurant…this place…would be special because he knew something—a great deal, in fact—about serving.

And making others happy.

Too bad he didn't have someone to serve him and make him happy.

Not that there weren't volunteers…

Bonnie Rockwaller could understand why _she_ might not be the one to make him happy—though she was more than willing to "serve" with no strings attached until he finally found someone worthy of him. The way she had treated him all though high school…well, just trying to make it up to him for that—never mind being actual soulmate material…

But the fact that he could have his pick of any woman under this roof (and more than a few thousand "out there") yet refused to "pick" at all was a little baffling.

Sure, his wife and unborn daughter had died, if the stories were true. Sure his parents and most of his surrogate family had been brutally murdered by Duff Killigan. But it was as if he was…waiting? For the right person to come along? Well, sure, but that doesn't mean you don't take swimming lessons before you buy your own pool…does it? It was almost as if…he was waiting for…but that couldn't be it…

_She_ had hurt him deeply…

The trauma was so deep that he couldn't even remember her!

So how can you carry a torch for someone you can't even remember?

No…it was his wife…

His poor, dead wife…

Which was just...great.

Bonnie had put her competitive streak to the test before: she knew that, with Shego and Possible—_La mère et la fille_—out of the running, she could put away all of therest of the competition in-house.

But how do you compete with the ghost of a dead, beloved wife?

Her musings were suddenly derailed by the sound of approaching voices.

"But why do you want to put up any posters down here?" a woman's voice whined. "The apartments are all upstairs and on the other side of the building."

By now the darkened room had allowed Bonnie's eyes to adjust to the low levels of light and she could see that the voice belonged to a blonde, pigtailed woman in a red and black harlequin bodysuit that fit her like an obscene glove.

"But the apartments seem to be all Double-X, chromosomally speaking," the Redhead dressed in green and greenery answered. "And if we want some males in the mix, we need to post some flyers down here where the workers and staff might find them."

"But if we're only interested in targeting one guy, why go after any others?"

The redhead heaved a sigh as she taped a piece of paper on the open door leading into the dining area of the restaurant. "Because we want to introduce other men into the mix to raise the male to female ratios, dumbass! It reduces the competitive factors in zeroing in on and cornering Stoppable."

"Ohhhh, Pammy," the blonde whined, "you wouldn't talk to me like that if Batsy was here!"

Bonnie sat up a little straighter as the two costumed women used flashlights to pick their way across the room and around the chairs and tables.

Sensing movement, the stopped and shone their lights around the room, finally illuminating Bonnie in their twinned beams.

"Bon Bon!" the redhead exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Connie? Lonnie? I might ask you the same thing," she snarked back.

"We're putting up flyers," Lonnie chirped, waving a handful of papers.

"Flyers for what?"

"A little housewarming party," Connie explained coolly, eyeing each of her siblings.

"Wouldn't it be more of an apartment-warming party?" Lonnie asked before wilting a little under her smarter sister's intense gaze.

"And I'm guessing you're going for a costume party as part of the theme," Bonnie added. "By the way, nice wig, Con."

Lonnie nodded enthusiastically. "We thought we'd ask everyone to dress up as their favorite superhero—you know—kinda in honor of Ron Stoppable?"

"Reeaally? Seems to me you didn't even know who he was when he came to recue you on that island awhile back…" Bonnie snorted.

"Like you're one to talk," Connie countered. "You went to school with him but seemed be suffering from some sort of amnesia on the flight home. And wasn't it your old boyfriend who kidnapped us in the first place?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Bonnie shot back. "Just like you have no idea as to how to carry out a simple costume-theme! You say you want people to dress as superheroes and here you are dressed up like a couple of supervillains!"

"Hey! Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy are not bad guys!" Lonnie pouted.

"Not guys, anyway," Bonnie argued. "But they might as well be. Besides being criminals, they're a couple of lezbos, as well!" She smirked. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"You take that back!" Lonnie screeched. "Pammy—I mean, Connie—make her take that back!"

Bonnie coolly examined the nails on her right hand. "Which part? The villains, the 'guys', or the lesbian categories? If you want to be straight, heroes, and do comic book characters closer to your own personalities, why don't you ditch DC and go with Marvel? You could dress up as The Scarlet Bitch and She-sulk!"

"That reminds me," Connie growled, tossing her flyers aside, "we still owe you a beat-down for that little stunt with the monkey house up on the roof!"

Bonnie used her uncanny cheerleader skills to back-flip out of her chair and escape across the table-tops as her older sisters began to chase her across the room and out the back exit.

**RSVP**

It had all happened so quickly that Felix Renton hadn't even had time to register the fact that his girlfriend, Justine Flanner, was already dead, bisected through her waist by the glowing, alien trident. Or that the redheaded cheerleader named Liz—Something—had been decapitated by the same deadly arc that had barely missed Wade Load, who now lay groaning upon the concrete floor.

The others in the room, Mrs. Dr. Renton, the Tweebs, had human reflexes, as well, and were only just beginning to grasp the horror that was being visited upon them.

But Cece's reaction time was far superior to human and alien, alike. Even before the light had faded from Justine's and Liz's eyes and Wade had had time to cry out, the B-bot's hands were folding back and her palms were splitting apart to reveal the inner workings of her artificial forearms. Semi-hollow, they housed crystalline rods that were glowing with an inner light: the right arm blue, the left arm green. Her formerly human-appearing eyes had irised open like twin camera apertures and a ruby red glow flickered deep within her skull.

Twin beams lanced out to separate the trident from its gigantic wielder. The separation occurred at the monster's shoulder. He screamed briefly before he was hurled backwards, just missing the female alien. The arm clutching the trident fell to the floor where he had stood just seconds before.

The female alien dropped behind the equipment she had been cannibalizing before Cece could target her in turn.

The fembot hesitated. Her Prime Directive was to serve Ronald Dean Stoppable. Protecting his friends as well as herself was a logical extension of that directive. But she also understood that the machinery between her and the alien was the key to restoring those "lost" members of her master's family. That to damage it could possibly damage him—emotionally—as well.

She began to move around the room to line up a kill-shot that would not further endanger the equipment, damaged as it already was.

**RSVP**

Tara King awoke from a light drowsy state, brought on by a cocktail of painkillers, muscle relaxants, and a rigorous round of physical therapy earlier in the day.

Someone was standing in the doorway to her bedroom.

"B-bonnie?" she called, stifling a yawn.

"No," answered a familiar voice. "I think it will be awhile before Bonnie makes her way back here…"

"Ron!" She tried to sit up but her back exploded in a fiery ball of pain and she fell back against her pillows.

"Easy now…" He was suddenly across the room and reaching behind her to offer support in settling her back down.

Her pajama top had rucked up beneath her shoulder blades as she slid back down and the warmth of his hands against her bare back soothed her aching muscles even as her heart sped up at his sudden closeness.

"Did—did you come to tuck me in?" she whispered as her arms came up to wrap around his neck.

He leaned in and his breath spilled across her face, warm and sweet. "I have," he whispered back. "I promised, didn't I?"

"Yes…" She smiled so sweetly, so tenderly, yet there was heartbreak in her wide, cornflower blue eyes.

"But you thought that I didn't mean it, didn't you?" he guessed.

She looked away and the sadness from those moist blue eyes threatened to overflow for a moment. "No…I just…"

"Thought that I was just making small talk?" he offered. "Ron is so oblivious. He just doesn't notice when someone is into him. Certainly not Tara King. He was so unaware back in high school. If he's still unaware, then there must me something wrong with her. Maybe he doesn't want to see it…because he's just not interested…" He smiled. "Am I close?"

"Maybe…" Her smile was weak and tremulous. "But it doesn't really matter…"

He slid onto the bed and curled up beside her, keeping one hand beneath her, cupping the small of her back. "Why doesn't it matter? Because you're a cripple? You think your inability to walk makes you any less desirable? Any less of a woman?"

She shook her head slowly. "If I can't satisfy y—a man…"

"Tara…" His free hand cupped her cheek. "Don't take this the wrong way but…what do you _really_ know about satisfying a man?"

"Well…Jason said—"

"I don't care what Jason Morgan or Josh Mankey or Bonnie or any of the other cheerleaders told you about pleasing a man. They are just a couple of horny _boys_ and some silly _girls_ who get their ideas of what's important out of magazines and Un-reality TV and stupid Teen-porn movies." He smiled and snuggled closer. "Now I am not every man but I am a man-legally _and_ morally in the eyes of my religion. I've been married. To a _woman_, not a girl. I'm raising my sister as a single parent. I am embracing a larger family within the walls of this building and taking responsibility for them as if they are all mine. So I think I know something about being a man…"

He squirmed in closer and murmured in her ear as his hand dropped from her cheek to her torso and he embraced her, his fingers finding where the splay of her ribs ended just above the inward curve to her waist. "And I know a great deal about pleasure, now," he murmured into the delicate shell of her ear.

She shivered in the midst of his warmth. "Wh-what do y—"

"Tara…" he whispered slowly, drowsily. "…I want you to pleasure me…with your mouth…"

"Ah…o…okay…" She squirmed a little. "I—I'll need to tur—"

"You don't need to move unless you're uncomfortable…" He sighed against her. "Are you uncomfortable?"

She shook her head slowly. "I'm fine…"

He smiled lazily. "Yes…yes you are…"

And then he was quiet, his eyes heavy lidded and his breathing slow and even.

"Are you going to—"

"Move?" he said softly. "Not unless I'm making you uncomfortable…"

"But you asked me to su—"

"I asked you to…_please_ me…with your mouth," he affirmed. "And I'm going to lie here beside you while you…_talk_…to me. Until I fall asleep…"

"Oh." And then: "Oohhhhhh!" Her arm came over and stroked his along his triceps. "Like sex talk?"

"No," he said softly. "Just _regular_ talk. Tell me about the things that you like. What's important to you. Anything you've always wanted to tell someone else…"

"But..."

"Sex is great!" he told her lazily. "Sex is badical! But sex...isn't enough. Relationships built on sex aren't enough. They don't last. And too many people end up making bad decisions because sex distracts them from what's really important in a partner..."

She sighed. "I know. I get that. But isn't it still important to...you know...satisfy...your partner?"

He grinned. "Well, yeah! But satisfaction comes in through all sorts of doors...and windows...and even a chimney or two. It's not just about 'insert Tab A into Slot B'. Here, let me show you something..."

**RSVP**

Another giant alien dropped down into the Possible basement from the floor above. Cece shifted her stance and fired both arm cannons, burning halfway through the monster's torso.

As it dropped, the female alien popped up from behind the Einstein-Rosen bridge equipment and fired a hand weapon at the ebony fembot, severing her left arm and spinning her around to fall on her face away from the invader's position.

Now Felix Renton rose into the air, his cyber-chair floating high enough to look down on the woman who was still attempting to remove the pan-dimensional vortex inducer from the machine's complex wiring. Pressing a series of buttons on the chair arms he prayed that his mother's recent upgrades to the chair's offensive and defensive capabilities would prove sufficient to deal with the threat.

His mother, an expert in cybernetics, was torn: on the one hand she had started to move toward the downed B-bot to see if anything could be done. But, with her son rising into the air to engage the giant alien, she could only stare helplessly and hope that he would be all right.

The Tweebs took over, rushing to Cece's side, attempting a rescue—or salvage—depending on what they'd find.

Tim Possible picked up the severed left arm and checked it over. Pulling back a flap of pseudoflesh, he opened a metal panel underneath and began pulling loose wires together and testing their connections.

Jim Possible tore open the pseudoflesh covering the back of Cece's neck and applied the leads of his multi-meter to assess the damage to the main body.

A new sound filled the basement as twin lasers fired from Felix's chair discouraging the alien from her task.

She returned fire and the space around Felix and his chair lit up like a miniature Fourth of July fireworks extravaganza. The chair fell to the floor and Felix was sprawled to the side of his seat, as still as death.

"Noooooooo!" Dr. Renton ran to her son and threw herself across his body as the alien fired again.

Believing all immediate threats were neutralized for the moment, the giant green woman touched a jewel on her gauntlet and ordered her ship to commence retrieval of her landing party, saving her for last. Then she pulled the pan-dimensional vortex inducer free, trailing a cable of wires and a second device…

…the kinematic continuum disrupter.

She started to glow and sparkle and, for an instant, Tim Possible could almost see right through her.

Jim Possible would have seen the same thing but he had turned to check on the Rentons—a selfless act that, in fact, saved his life.

As Jim moved from his brother's side, Tim stood, hefting Cece's detached arm and pointed it at the sparkling, fading alien. A bolt of green energy erupted from the cybernetic "hand" and smashed into and through the departing creature.

There was a brilliant flash of light and, for a moment, the survivors felt as if their bodies were being torn apart, turned inside-out, and pureed before being poured through a fiery screen door and back into an ill-fitting mold of their former selves and flash-baked until slightly over-done.

As the light faded, Cece's left arm fell to the floor because Timothy Possible was no longer there to hold it.

As Jim Possible stared at the scorch mark on the floor where his twin had stood just moments before, he was vaguely aware of the sounds of moaning and sobbing.

Wade was in pain but that didn't stop him from crawling across the floor towards Felix who had just awakened to discover his dead mother shielding his body with hers.

Lost in grief and pain and shock for the moment, they didn't immediately notice the sound of a growing, high-pitched whine or that the house around them was starting to vibrate like a plucked guitar string.

Not until the door at the top of the basement stairs was torn off its hinges and a hulking silhouette filled its frame, glaring down at them with glowing, baleful eyes.

Steve Barkin extended a big, beefy arm toward them and bellowed: "Come with me if you want to live!"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: It's a famous line from the famous poem "The Second Coming" by W.B. Yeats. I'll be using other lines from the poem just ahead. I think the meanings here will be self-evident-even if the poem, itself, is quite cryptic. Look it up online and give it a read if you're not familiar with it. It's not terribly long and can almost guarantee some goosebumps!<strong>

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><p><strong>AuthorsNotes 2: ****_Hi Kids! Miss me? If you did, please leave a review. If not, then you won't mind a longer wait for the next chapter._**

**_(11/24/14) Wooah! It's been a year! Guess I wasn't kidding about that "review" thingie! (Well, actually, the rewrites took a lot longer and life got a lot weirder...but more reader feedback would have probably sped things along, too...)_**

**_And I trust this chapter allayed DF's concerns that I was going to copycat Weirdbard on the Pam and Harleen issue. Naw: just a small tribute, man-with a little chain-yanking for the readers thrown in. (But you never know about the KIGO threats...)_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER Chapter 41<strong>

_zafnak chapter 41 . 11/23/14_

Ummm...a bit late there Mr Barkin...

**_Better late than never. At least he didn't give them all detention! R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler chapter 41 . 1123/14_

I am nowhere near caffeinated enough (and I suspect there isn't enough caffeine in existence to manage) to comment coherently or cogently on this chapter. *That's* how over the limit these events have driven this reader.

I'm going to go raid my wine cellar, then PM the author with my reactions. Maybe commenting p*ssed out of my gourd will allow me to make sense of all this. Its like watching a traffic pile-up through particularly bad corrective lenses.

Par for the course with this author.

**_What's that? You're going to raid your "whine" cellar? (LOL) Ya know, Uber, I'm never quite sure with you whether I'm getting a pat on the head or a smack to the back of it. _**

**_;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 chapter 41 . 1123/14_

So many things zipping into view here, darting and leaving tidbits for further explanation down the road.

Some very ominous happenings taking place while things are on their way.

Anne may be in danger while Shego probably will eventually lead Dark Kim back to Middleton and multiple confrontations, the battle at the Possible home seems to have gone off the chain while Bonnie's teaching the finer points of snaring a man to her banshee sisters; but which 'Ron' visited Tara...?

More to come, same place, different time...

CB73

**_Which Ron, indeed? There are so many to choose from... R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 chapter 41 . 1124/14_

Yup you've been busy thinning the herd a little Rippy...for that some of us are grateful. It's gotta mean you're getting serious.

ST-103

**_How dare you! Accuse me of being serious one more time and my lawyer will contact your lawyer! It is customary for lawyers to serve as "seconds" on the dueling field at sunrise, is it not? I'll give you first choice: swords, pistols, or Vogon poetry. R~13_**

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><p><em>The Desert Fox chapter 41 . 1124/14_

Actually no I didn't miss you. It was actually peaceful and quite. (In pops DF) DF: Amscray! Stop writing writing mean stuff. AM: Then stop messing with my stuff you baka! DF: No problem A-man. AM: Baka! How many times have I told you stop calling me A-man. DF: Chill A-man. AM: That's it! Prepare to die! DF: Well, gotta split. Hey Duke of Fenwick! Post my response for me! (Desert Fox and Amscray run off).

**_Really, Fox: the shrink gives us our meds for a reason. You can't just keep going on and off of them like this..._**

DoF: Here's the Desert Fox's review:  
>Decent chapter. I wasn't exactly concerned. Well, I guess maybe I was, but I was trying to avoid too much cliche. No surprise there, that you're not surprised. If Shego's not going back to Ron then she belongs in Arkham. Yeah, about killing off Justine, not to happy; actually was not too thrilled with Liz being taken out too. Good, explanation is coming up.<p>

**_Sorry: can't make an omlette without breaking some eggs. Order up: more omlettes to come..._**

Ahh Khan aka Khan Noonien Singh who appeared in the original Star Trek in 1967, and is in no way shape or form related to Genghis Khan and his descendants. A fraud if you will.

**_But not as much of a fraud as the "Into Darkness" Khan._**

**_And, really? A handheld communicator that can make a sat-phone call to a Federation restaurant from the Romulan Neutral Zone? Don't get me started on the most recent Star Trek Reboot..._**

Are you going to croak? You clutched your chest, heart attack? Hmm, if that happens, I take over this fic, and fix it so that Liz, Justine and Camille aren't deceased. Whatever floats my boat; I think take the IJN Yamato.

**_Anything can happen to anyone: people drop dead in their 20s. I'm years beyond that. Plus dealing with CHF & diabetes. And more stress than Katherine Sebelius at a Job Fair for code monkeys. I've seen other authors Go Dark on this site-in some cases nobody knows if they died or just got bored and walked away without another look back. Sometimes the latter seems attractive; sometimes the former seems more likely..._**

That's the joys of authorship. The author is frequently writing stuff that contradicts themselves. Exhibit A: Harry Potter. Time frames contradict real events. This is true as far as video games are concerned. If Ron can't face Kim then he's not worthy of being the Chosen One. BTW: Unless you have an actual ending to all this, might I suggest ending this like Newhart.

**_We'll see what happens in RSVP III: The Return of the Kim. You can even see something in the next chapter, here. Or I could have Kim wake up from this nightmare and turn to her Bf/BF and tell him all about the weirdness, the amnesia, aliens, harem-like social networking...before Walter Nelson tells her to go back to sleep? Hmmmmmmm..._**

Okay, wait Camille is still alive? Am I missing something? It's "And none of them are the original…." So it was costumes. Well that explains a lot. Actually, I think that Pam and Harley are bisexual not lesbians. Pam used to date Harvey Dent or is in an on again/off again relationship. Harley has the same thing with the Joker.

**_Yeah, well Bonnie was just baiting and trash talking her sisters. She would have called Pammy & Harley "Republicans" if it would have stoked their ire..._**

DoF: Well that's all. On behave of the Desert Fox and Amscray, keep up the good work.

**_Thanks, dude! R~13_**

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><p><em>GabrielBlade chapter 41 . 1125/14_

You.. but.. the Tweebs.. but...

I hate you so much. I demand more, now!

**_Aw, GB: you sweet talker, you! And it's Tweeb, now, not Tweebs anymore. Sorry to take so long but it takes time to spin the Kill-Off-The-Next-Character wheel. R~13_**

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><p><strong><em>CgC chapter 41 . 121/14_**

First I wish to tell you my choice for Ron finall company:Yori and because they were brutaly splited and they deserve a second chance and Yori because she helped him to heal and she is his whife and has a child with him.I don't think the others deserve to be with him because they are just a bunch of "food chain" ?Because they started to like him after he became the world wide know hero and rich and that they didn't give him a Tara who supposely had a crush on him didn't exchange she got togheter with the "hottie" Josh Mankey not with her crush,the"loser" Ron Kim and Yori had fellings for him before he became the know hero.

_**Yes. The "loss" of Yori affected Ron far more than all of the other things put together. If Yori reenters the picture, everyone else will have to take a back seat. No doubt about that...sorry Rongo, Harem, Kim/Ron shippers. Even if Ron wasn't in love with his wife and the mother of his child, his loyalty to her would set everyone else aside, even, I think, Kim should his memories fully return. As you (and I) have said, Yori had feelings for him first and acted on them in a way that has trumped everyone else.**_

After I say this I have to say a few things tgat I find disturbing or wrong in your story:

_**Wrong? Maybe. Disturbing? Oh, I hope so!**_

first:how did the tweebs capture his MMP because his power are magic in nature and magic and science don't mix well(like Kim and cooking).More his power are tied to his soul and you cannot capture soul (if that was possible I think that Monkey Fist would have tried that).This is the reason why cloning him or him to transfer his power to his vhildren wouldn't work(if that would be possible we would see more Monkey Master and someone will try to clone him or have his children for them to have acces to his power).

_**I like your analogy of science & magic being like Kim & cooking! But, there are plenty of literary (and movie) examples of science affecting magic and magic affecting science. One might assume that magic is superior to science but magic is just an alternative form of science and formulas and physics and, while different from each other in many ways, they are also similar in others and there's not necessarily a law that says magic is always superior to science (although many stories like to lean this way).**_

_**The Mystical Monkey Power may be a tool that is attracted to Ron's spirituality (or soul) but it has been passed down through the ages so it's not the very same thing as a person's soul...otherwise Ron would have acquired the "soul(s)" of the previous Monkey Master(s) and I don't think that's the case with the MMP. Magic (and MMP) usually is understood as the mastery/manipulation of "powers" and powers are generally understood to be a form of energy (though probably on a frequency or spectrum not fully understood by the practitioners of science. When the Tweebs temporarily trapped the power frequency that Ron's MMP was operating on, they were using a "magnetic bottle," a device nuclear scientists use to harness a fusion reaction which is the same a small star or sun. While Ron has demonstrated that he can throw 10-foot aliens across the sky and levitate and heal, I'm not sure he has the power equivalent to a small sun.**_

_**More importantly, I don't want Ron to have unbeatable superpowers. Like Superman without kryptonite, an invulnerable, unbeatable hero stops being interesting after a little while because the real heroes overcome pain and loss and superior numbers, laying their lives on the line, knowing that they could die and probably will...but fight the good fight anyway. Ultimate power is a fun fantasy but it wears out as an interesting story pretty fast if the hero has nothing at stake and can win without much of an effort. Come to think of it, Sensei was taken prisoner by Gorilla-Fist so, magical ninja powers don't always trump mad geneticists.**_

_**As for "cloning"? Let's see how that plays out for the "Rons"...**_

Second the way you splited them is a little ?Simple,because the are several reason as I see them:  
>first Ron and Kim know eachother for 14 years and they will know that something is wrong when the other act tottaly different from how he act why would Kim kill Rufus when she say repeated thay she like him and he his a valuable member of the why she would she reproach thos thing to Ron when she put with him for so long.<br>And Ron will never try to rape ?Simple:first he is afraid of James and is black holl he would never hurt Kim on purpose(let's be serios,a guy who goes to mission when he is affraid of anything just to protect a girl wouldn't try to rape the same girl).Third,Ron and Kim are now a couple and if he want to advance theyer relation to the next level he will simple ask Kim,no try to rape fourth Kim know Ron to well to be fouled by something like will know that something is wrong and she will try to find what is happened,no run and hide into a finally how could they be foul by something like this when they are even't in the same town(and thon't tell they didn't know this because I can't belive that will go from tonw and she didn't tell Ron that she is leavin for a time).And Ron power will tell him that Kim is not real because now he have acces to a bigger portion of his power then he have at Diablo attac and Eric.

_**Well, I have to admit that I struggled with the first chapter of this saga and how the repercussions were to play out over the next "year" or so.**_

_**A number of stories split up Kim and Ron by having Kim be a bitch or cheat on Ron or do other OCC things that fall into the paths of the very objections that you raise. I didn't want to go that route for the very reasons that you elaborate. Still, as you ask, how could Kim believe that Ron would suddenly want to rape her or threaten the lives of her family while being all creepy about her mother? And how could Ron believe that Kim would say such hateful, racist things about Yori and his sister and throw their 14 year relationship under the bus?**_

_**It doesn't seem rational, does it?**_

_**In my mind both Kim and Ron were suffering mild cases of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) in the aftermath of the Lowardian Invasion, on top of being split up for Global Justice tours. **_

_**Being suddenly thrust into horrible, sadistic, encounters with nightmare versions of their best friend/significant other, immediately traumatized them in a situation where they had no time to think or process this new and unexpected threat. Ron's MMP has been shown to require some momentary meditation to kickstart the process-something he had no time to do in the middle of a horrible and hateful conversation, so his powers were of little use at the moment.**_

_**Of course the murder/death of Rufus immediately sent him into shock on top of this seeming betrayal of his BF/GF and he wasn't thinking clearly for a long time. Marrying Yori returned joy and healing to his life while distracting him from really processing Kim's OOC behavior. And then Yori "died" and he was emotionally devastated again until he invoked the "amnesia" request that kept the Kim question at bay...so far...**_

_**Since Kim was offstage I didn't show the readers the process that she went through other than to show that she was kept away and in the dark by the false letters that she believed were from her parents. Since the story has been "Ron-centric", spending more time on Kim in part one would have bogged down a story that some readers were already complaining about being too big and complex.**_

_**I admit that I still am unsatisfied with the initial set-up. Shortly after I wrote and posted RSVP I: Chapter 1, I rewrote it and reposted it. Originally the chapter was more brutal in the synthodrones' mental and emotional (and physical attacks). My very first review was a reader expressing disgust with how I had portrayed "Kim" and "Ron" and felt such portrayals should be removed to the Adult Fan Fiction site and that they had no place here. He should have been able to see that both "Nasty Kim" and "Nasty Ron" were actually synthodrones, not only because of their obvious OCCness but because of the clues and the fact that neither Kim nor Ron seemed anything like the version of themselves in the flipped encounters. I mean, "they" supposedly had two encounters the same day and yet each seemed totally unrelated to the other.**_

_**And since the reader had the advantage of looking at printed words on a page with time to think about what all of the words meant and how they were arranged and what didn't seem to make sense and that maybe there was a reason for that! (But he didn't).**_

_**So maybe it was a little harder for Kim and Ron to take a step back (physically as well as mentally and emotionally) when that awful, nasty thing (that looks exactly like the one that you love) is right there in your face saying things specifically calculated to tear into the most vulnerable parts of your heart and soul!**_

_**It's the summer after the Lowardian invasion. Kim's home was destroyed. The stress of leading search and rescue teams, rebuilding a home. find that her 14-year relationship with her harmless, slightly inept friend is changing a little too fast for her: Zorpox, Mystical Monkey Warrior and The Chosen One, possibly The Great Blue who killed giant aliens like he was swatting a couple of annoying flies! And Betty Director (and potentially thousands of other women on the planet) have taken an interest in Ron, ramping her already stressed emotions into overdrive. A dark, isolated cabin, a creepy voice saying creepy things, handcuffs...of course Kim was freaked out coming out of a deep and disorienting sleep! She knew how dangerous Zorpox could be-I mean. he absolutely terrified Shego and she doesn't take crap from anybody!**_

_**Ron was the easier mark, however. He's always had an inferiority complex when it came to Kim-not that he minded, of course. He'd been seemingly content to play second fiddle-sidekick-to the awesome Kim Possible! Whether it was giant mutant creatures, aliens, mad scientists, doomsday devices...or boys...hotties...Ron knew his place and always feared that he would be cut loose, left behind, and, in the meantime, not taken seriously. Her final rejection must have seemed inevitable and the was always waiting for the other shoe to fall. The fact that, when it did, it came with not only hateful, hurtful words and a scathing tone, but that it ended with the cold-blooded murder of his best friend in the world even...at the hands of his other best friend in the world! It was a wonder that he didn't completely lose his mind right then and there!**_

_**I think its fairly believeable that the shock and strain of events leading up to the snthodrone attacks drove out any careful analytical thoughts of how suspiciously unlike it was for the other to act that way. And, in the aftermath of the attacks, both Kim and Ron left town, fleeing families and friends and support systems that might have helped them see the truth of it. Or, at least, the highly suspicious aspects of it. By now, both were suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome and not thinking back on the encounters in any rational manner, at all.**_

_**This would not be an unusual matter. All kinds of stories are about people kept apart by misunderstandings, angry words, silly differences of opinion. It usually happens because the characters are too close to the wounding to have the same perspective as we readers as we look down from high above the page.**_

_**Anyway, I agonized over the first chapter: whether to make it more brutal and therefore more believable that Kim and Ron would be deeply traumatized...**_

_**And, by doing so, guarantee the 90% of the readers wouldn't finish the chapter, much less read the next...**_

_**Or make the set-up more reader-friendly and undermine the idea that the synthodrones were evil enough to do the necessary damage to our heroes.**_

_**So I tried to strike a balance. And I'm still not satisfied with the result. So I understand your issues with why Kim & Ron shouldn't have been fooled...at least not this long!**_

And about Ron personalities:how could exist more and refere to his core personality as Ron Prime when is core personality must be a mix of all his talent,abilities and the definition of a can't be just good or evil,brave or coward,smart or stupid,driven or are a mix of all of I don't think that Zorpox is entierly evil.I think that he is Ron intelect without the barrier he put theier himself so he will not compete with Kim and lose her frienship because Kim will not accepted to be friend with someone who is smarter that she is because of her Type-A personality that she must be the best at I don't think that Zorpox intelect is Drakken because he still invent thing when he was good,the Attitudinat extract good and evil not

_**The "core" personality is an interesting question. Does it mean the "integrated" whole or sum of all of the different parts of the various personalities? Or is it the soul, stripped down to its basic components, without all of the added in baggage that we acquire as we grow up, live, learn, and are affected by our experiences, triumphs, and failures? You pose an interesting question/challenge here and the idea of who this "Zorpox" or "Z-Ron" really is and what he's becoming as well as who or what the currently absent Ron is and what will happen when he returns.**_

_**This kind of feedback is very helpful to a writer and I'll be focusing on addressing these issues in the near future (plot-wise). In fact, the very first scene in the next chapter (which I am about to repost) addresses part of that issue, so stay tuned.**_

_**And thanks! R~13**_


	42. The Centre Cannot Hold

**Required Disclaimer:** _Guest Disclaimer (hey, after 82+ chapters I've run out of original ways to disclaim, myself) lifted and massaged from MrDrP's Lawyer's Line: If you saw it on KP, it belongs to Disney; otherwise (unless duly noted) it belongs to me._

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><p><strong>Chapter 42 – The Centre Cannot Hold…<strong>

"Dude! You can't keep pulling this sh—er—doo-doo!"

The formerly blue entity formerly known as Zorpox the Conqueror folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. "What?" he insolently asked the group of near lookalikes.

"Messing with the ladies," another "Ron" qualified.

He arched an eyebrow. "Messing?"

"Sleeping with Tara, man! I'd call that crossing a line!"

He looked around the virtual room that was buried somewhere in Ron Stoppable's subconscious. The other Ron Stoppables—or, rather, those personality fragments that made up the gestalt of Ron's personality—stared back. Some glared, others looked worried or even fearful…but there were more than a few grins and smirks, as well.

"I wouldn't call it 'sleeping'," he retorted. "More like 'napping'. And we're not having sex."

"This time," one of the Ron's accused.

"We didn't have sex the last time, either," he argued. "It was all in her head."

"Makes it even worse in some ways," someone muttered.

"Yeah, and _not_ trying to slee—er—get physical is actually worse because it makes them want you all the more," another postulated.

"Them?" The eyebrow arched higher. "I thought we were talking about Tara."

"Don't think we don't know about you sneaking around, slipping into other dreams, other thoughts…"

"Other heads!"

"What's your plan, Zorpox?"

"Are you building a harem?"

"Perfecting your powers of mind-control?"

"Creating a Kim Possible Assassination Squad?"

He held up his hands and made a gesture. The rising babble of voices died down and a forest of over-sized ears cocked to see what he would say.

"Let's clear up a major misconception before I try to explain just what I am trying to do…and why. First of all, _we_ are all elements of Ronald Dean Stoppable's personality. Various entities here represent his childish side, his childlike side—both separate and different from each other—as well as his angry side, his sensitive side, his heroic side—"

"His loving side," someone supplied.

But Zorpox shook his head. "That one has gone missing…"

"You mean Ronald Prime," the smart Ron challenged.

"Ohhh yeahhhh!" someone in the back said. "The Ron-man is allll about the lovin'!"

"Please," Zorpox said, "let's have a grown-up conversation about what's in Ron's—and _our_—best interests. Perhaps the children—or the childish personalities—should leave the room."

"That would pretty much empty the area," someone muttered.

"Hey! You're not blue!" another exclaimed.

There was a good deal of muttering over that realization.

"If I'm not blue anymore it's because I've changed."

There were more than a few snorts of derision at that statement.

"No, really. I've always been that part of Ronald Prime that he's sublimated and suppressed. The Competent Ron, the Clever Ron—"

"The _Scary_ Ron," some supplied.

"Perhaps. But not in the way you infer. Here is a child who could see and converse with his animal totem while he was still very young. Who became a globe-trotting adventurer while still an adolescent. Fought supervillains and henchmen while a teenager and had to juggle high school curriculum while staying out late and fighting for survival on school nights. He has carried the seeds of great destinies in his soul, only recently learning the disciplines of a Mystical Monkey Master and that he has burdens of being The Chosen One in his life yet to come. On some level he must have sensed that there were deep tides within himself and fought to keep them from rising to the surface.

"When the Attitudinator scrambled his self control, trading good for evil with Dr. Drakken, the barriers were removed to my ascendancy. Up until my emergence, I had no distinguishing elements for establishing an outside identity. Since Ronald Prime was on an undercover mission and dressed as the fictional villain, Zorpox the Conquerer, it seemed both natural and even expeditious to use that character as my initial template.

"Once balance was restored and Ron's 'goodness' was returned to him and Drakken's essence sent packing, I did not cease to exist. But it took the departure of that aspect of Ron's personality that repressed me for me to be able to…be more expressive,"

"In other words," Logical Ron observed, "when Ronald Prime is unconscious or absent, you have far greater latitude to operate in his place."

"Yes. And, without a dominant dose of 'evil' to corrupt my operating principles, I only seek to accomplish those things that will keep him—and all of us—safe."

"By building a harem," another Ron said.

"By accumulating and consolidating power," Zorpox countered. "Sometimes through the building of alliances."

"Seducing women," a voice sneered.

Zorpox held up a hand. "No seduction. The interest is already there on their part. Sometimes latent. Sometimes raging just beneath the surface. I merely offer…openness. Acceptance. Returned attention. Our Prime gestalt is a mass of insecurities, self-doubt, and repression. I open the possibilities in each encounter to healthier opportunities. And I don't do this selfishly. Ronald Prime would offer rejection to those who seek to get closer to him…to those that wish to offer loyalty, allegiance…"

"Love?"

"Affection?"

Zorpox nodded. "I do what I do for him…and for us…and for them. And—one more thing. 'Zorpox' is the construct of a pretend villain that Ronald Prime used to sneak into a Villain's convention and was subsequently actualized by the application of the Attitudinator..."

There was a small chorus of "what are you saying?"s.

"I am not that villain!" The Ron-formerly-known-as-Zorpox continued. "Especially as I operate separately from an environment of evil within our current sphere. So, stop calling me 'Zorpoz'! I am not that dude!"

"So what do we call you?" the mass of Rons asked.

"Call me…Z."

An external screech interrupted the Ronistic confab.

"Oh, what is it now?" Z groused.

**RSVP**

"I know she won't mind waking up for this," Bonnie told her the trio of former cheermates. After evading her sisters, she had headed back to the apartment she was sharing with Tara and had encountered them coming down from the roof and looking a bit lost. "She's—hell, we've all been worried about you guys ever since you disappeared from Babastan! How did you ever escape?"

"Funny story, that," Crystal said. "More like two different escapes…"

"Did Ron miss me? Er…us?" Hope asked.

"What's this about Tara being injured?" Marcella demanded.

Bonnie unlocked the door to the apartment she was sharing with Tara and led them to the bedroom door, ignoring for the moment that there was a sock hanging from the doorknob.

"Tara, Sweetie, guess who—_what the HELL?_"

Bonnie's roommate came out of a deep (and most satisfying) slumber struggling to sit up in her rumpled bed. Her back injury was a bit of an impediment to this action but the larger problem "lay" in the additional resistance of the arm encompassing her waist and its attachment to one Ronald Dean Stoppable (for all outward appearances, anyway).

"Hope?" she murmured sleepily. "Marcy? Crys?" She reached up to rub her sleep-dimmed eyes but only one arm made the trip. The other was trapped under a former Mad Dog's bicep. She looked down. "Ronnie?"

"Ron!"

"Ronnie!"

"Oh, Mad Dog!"

Three of the other four girls rushed forward and jumped onto the bed.

"I think I'm gonna puke," muttered Bonnie, still standing in the doorway.

**RSVP**

Joss Possible picked up the gnome from the dresser and examined it. "What's this Aunt Anne?"

Anne Possible shrugged and then shrugged into a silk blue pajama top. "Some kind of a gift…I think…"

"From Ron?"

"I don't know. It's an odd sort of present. I seem to recall that he used to have a phobia about garden gnomes…"

"It's kind of heavy," Joss observed, setting it back on the dresser.

The gnome said nothing but took note of the familial resemblance between Anne and her niece.

Then it resumed scanning the room for weak points in a variety of attack scenarios, careful not to betray any movement or sign of sentience.

**RSVP**

"And so we ran to the hoverpod and escaped without going back for our things," Crystal finished.

"Not that we had much to go back and get, anyways," Marcella groused.

"But we were afraid that Kim might try to stop us so we got out of there as fast as we could!" Hope added, breathing deeply and distracting both Ron and Marcella.

"Yeah, well, that would explain why you're wearing itty-bitty bikinis," Ron observed. "Do you have any clothes here?"

"I've got some spare outfits they can borrow," Bonnie volunteered from the doorway, clearly unhappy at all of the nubile, exposed flesh cuddling up to Ron in Tara's bed.

"Great," he said, giving the quartet around him a brotherly hug. "But who flew the hoverpod?"

"That would be me," a new voice said.

Adrena Lynn was standing behind Bonnie in the doorway and Tara's roommate jumped in surprise.

Everyone else stared.

Adrena's hair had grown out to where it reached past her shoulders now. And while Crystal, Hope, and Marcella were familiar with the new length, she had transformed her appearance since landing the shuttlepod on the warehouse roof.

Her golden locks had been brushed back and pulled into a ponytail, held in place by a red ribbon so that it dropped between her shoulders in a thick cascade, giving her a more youthful look. The catsuit was gone, left behind in the hoverpod to dry. In its place she wore a tight, white, baby-tee and a a pair of torn, low-rider jeans that put her toned, bronzed abdominals on full display. Perhaps she had been unable to fully dry herself after stripping off the wet catsuit…or, perhaps intentionally, her damp skin made portions of the cotton tee cling to her athletic form and turn nearly transparent in some places.

She cast her eyes about the room brazenly, lingering on Ron more than once before she spoke again.

"I got the impression that the sidekick was into some freaky stuff but—ohhh, Ronnie!" She arched an eyebrow, cocked a hip and smiled lasciviously. "Got room for one more?"

Even the hyper-suave Z-Ron was momentarily flustered.

**RSVP**

Shego entered the warehouse in stealth mode.

While she wasn't in the mood for a bunch of "Welcome Back"s and "Where Did You Go"s and , even worse, "_Why_ Did You Go"s, there was a more compelling reason to creep through the corridors all sneaky and stealthy: _she had seen Adrena Lynn's hoverpod parked on the roof_.

It was empty—except for a couple of hastily assembled "go-bags" and a wet, orange and black catsuit hung up to dry.

So Shego grabbed the rucksack of weaponry she had liberated from Kim's lair, slung it over her shoulder, and began running a sweep pattern to see if she could catch the blonde bitch before she got to Ro—_Stoppable._

He wasn't in his apartment.

She could hear a babble of voices through the door the opened into Yoshi's former quarters. She recognized two of them as belonging to that actress chick and the singer. Another's was clearly Electronique. The fourth was unfamiliar—maybe that blonde cheerleader that everybody thought got blown up…

From the sounds of the conversation she quickly deduced that Ron wasn't in there with them.

Creeping down to the second floor, she moved along a stretch of open balcony and heard the sounds of muffled voices below.

She took the stairs double-time, skipping every other tread, but moving lightly and silently until she reached the lobby of the main entrance. The voices were coming from the main room of the restaurant area and several of them sounded angry or annoyed.

Starting up her hands to a soft glow, she stepped into the dining area, ready to flare up and leap into battle.

A black girl and a small Latina were brandishing handguns in an off hand manner while having words with a redhead in green tights and a blonde wearing a harlequin costume.

"I don' care if you putas are her mother and her Great Aunt Flo, you don' beat on someone jus' because you don' like them."

"Yeah," Monique chimed in, "if everyone was allowed to beat the crap out of _The Bonninator_ when she annoyed them, we'd _all_ be standing in line."

"An endless, ever looping line," Zita qualified. "But you can thank your _baby sister_ for the fact that we're not shooting you right here and right now."

"Because you _way_ more annoying than that snarky beyotch," the Middleton fashion maven continued.

"B-bonnie actually asked you not to hurt us?" Connie asked in an astonished voice.

"Oh, _hell_ no!" Monique growled.

"She'd _love_ it if we beat your fat asses black and blue," Zita said.

"And we sure as well _don't_ want to do something that would actually make her happy!" Zita said.

"Now if she actually started to _like_ you…"

"…then you would be the _target_ of every single one of us with an axe to grind!"

"On the other hand," Shego said right behind the Rockwaller sisters, causing them to jump, "I got no high school history with Bon Bon so I don't give a rat's ass about whether she likes it or not if I light you two bimbettes up like a pair of charcoal briquettes."

Connie and Lonnie Rockwaller 'eeped' and took off running.

"Girl, you shouldn't joke about stuff like that!" Monique mock-scolded as they disappeared around the corner. Then she added with a grin: "Just go right ahead and do it!"

"Wait a minute," Zita said, "I think they're coming back."

But it was Dr. Vivian Porter who came back around the corner, looking very disheveled and distraught.

She stopped when she saw Shego. "What? You're _back_ now? Well, you've lost your place in line."

"Really?" Shego snarked. "Why? Think you're woman enough to compete outside of the laboratory?"

"He's not interested in me," the curvy roboticist snapped. "But you've got bigger problems in the competition department." She gestured with her thumb over her shoulder.

Dede appeared. Carrying some sort of mechanical contraption in her hand.

"Dr. Porter, artificial beings have rights, too!" the brunette fembot argued as she caught up to the group. "Among them: life, liberty, and the pursuit of sexuality!"

Shego gaped at the artificial woman and then looked back at Vivian. "She's kidding, right?"

The roboticist deadpanned: "Ask her what she has in her hands."

"It is a cybernetic vagina, as you well know, Dr. Porter," Dede huffed. "And if you will not install it, I shall attempt the hack-mod and retrofit, myself!"

Shego's eyes grew wide. "She's kidding, isn't she? Somebody tell me that this is a joke…"

Before the former villainess could get an answer, the front doors were kicked open and the hulking form of Steve Barkin entered the lobby. His eyes seemed to glow like twin ruby lazers and a pair of bodies were draped over his massive shoulders.

Beside him stood a trembling Jim Possible, clutching the remains of a cybernetic arm that had once belonged to Dede's robotic sibling, Cece.

Leading the parade was a beautiful woman with blue skin and long, white hair.

"Take us to your leader," she commanded.

**RSVP**

The doctor awoke the young Asian man as he dozed in the chair next to Yori's bedside. "He's asking for you."

Hirotaka arose and, after checking on the baby, followed the doctor out of the room and down the hall.

They passed Señor Senior Senior's room and he noticed that the hospital bed was empty, the I.V. tubes and EKG leads disconnected. Continuing down the hall, they came to an elevator. Inside, there were buttons on the panel for four floors up and two floors down.

At the bottom of the panel was a keyhole.

The doctor produced a key from a chain around his neck and inserted it in the panel. There was a beep and the elevator started down.

****RSVP****

The striking young woman strode through the seeming endless depths of the Smarty Mart superstore, turning heads in every one of the hundreds of aisles that she passed. Her head, in contrast, turned neither to the right or the left: she was totally focused on her mission.

At last she arrived in the Pet Department at the back of the twenty-seven acre building.

The nearest store employee, a pimply-faced high school sophomore named Milton, took in the long expanse of toned legs between her cream colored, two-inch heels and the beige skirt that covered the last ten inches of her upper thighs. He swallowed as he took in the roller-coaster curves of her form-fitting knit top (that matched her shoes to perfection) and continued his upward gaze but found himself blushing and looking away when he realized that he was starting to stare at her two greatest assets!

He scrambled up off of the floor where he was stocking a bottom shelf and mumbled an incomprehensible apology, followed by the words, "Welcome to Smarty Mart; where smart shoppers shop smart! May I help you?"

She nodded but it took Milton a few moments to realize because he couldn't quite bring himself to look at her...her...well...he had never quite seen a pair so...so..._mesmerizing!_

She cleared her throat and then told him that she was looking for an animal..."

"Dog or cat?" he asked quickly. Milton tended to talk a little too fast when he was nervous and, boy, was this older lady making him feel nervous. Or something very like. "I'll be you're a cat person! We have a vast assortment of the _catus felis_, from the Abyssinian to the York Chocolate. We've got long-hairs, short-hairs, and all shapes and sizes..."

But she was shaking her head: no.

She told him that she wasn't shopping for a mere pet, but that she was in the market for something more exotic.

"Oh, well then, you've come to the right place, ma'am! The exotic pets department is just two blocks over! Please follow me!"

And he walked ahead of her, trying not to imagine her two...those...pointed right at the back of his head!

"As you can see, ma'am, we have the largest collection of exotic pets outside of any circus...and inside more than a most of them. We keep them alphabetized for easy shopping and restocking." They turned and started down a new aisle. "See," he pointed out, "we've got your Alligators, Amphibians, Anteaters Arctic Foxes, Armadillos, Axolotls, Bats, Bears, Binturongs, Capybaras, Chipmonks, Coatls, Coyotes, Chimpanzees, Deer, Degus, Dholes, Dingoes, European Polecats, Fennec Foxes, Flying Foxes, Flying Squirrels, Genets, Hares, Hedgehogs, Indian Star Tortoises, Jackals, Kangaroos, Kinkajous, Marmots, Opossums, Pangolins, Porcupines, Raccoons, Ring-tailed Cats, Savannah Cats, Squirrels, Striped Polecats, Sugar Gliders, Skunks, Tame Silver Foxes, Tayras, Wallabies, Wallaroos, Wombats, Water Opossums, Wolves, Yaks, and Zebras."

"What about monkeys?" she asked him.

Milton shook his head. "Don't sell them."

She put her hands on her shapely hips. "I thought Smarty Mart sold everything!"

"We do." He tried to resist the urge to duck as she swung those twin...weapons...his way. "We did! We...just don't sell...monkeys...anymore..."

"You sell Chimpanzees," she challenged.

He shook his head. "They're not the same as real Monkeys," he explained. "A Chimpanzee is an Ape, not a Mon..."

"Yeah, yeah; I know, I know." She waved off his explanation. "But why don't you?"

The kid paused, looked around, then leaned in, still careful to avoid her two greatest assets. "There was this...incident," he whispered conspiratorially. "Before my time..."

In truth, anything that happened at Smarty Mart more than two months ago was before Milton's time.

"The old timers refer to it," he continued, "when they're not too frightened to talk of it at all...as...The Night of the Monkeys!" He risked a glance upwards and was stunned to see that they were both even bigger than he remembered them from just a few moments before. He began to stammer: "T-there was this guy...he was different. N-not scary different, they say...at least he wasn't, at first..."

She snorted.

It was cute and ladylike...

But, nevertheless, a snort.

"Was his name Ron Stoppable?" she asked. Only it sounded more like amused recognition than a guess or a question.

"I...I think so."

She reached out and took him by the arm and pulled him close, which was terrible!

Because now he couldn't look away and they were right there, in front of him! He felt the skin of his face go up in temperature another ten degrees.

"Listen, Marvin, I have been working on this...plot. A plan to..." She shook her head . "The less you know, the better."

"B-but I have to know something!" he protested. "How can I help you find a pet, if I do~n..." The rest of his words were swallowed as her index finger pressed against his lips.

"First of all, Milton, I am not shopping for a 'pet'. Not even an exotic one. You see, my target is a fierce and dangerous man and I need something that is not just a pet, or something merely exotic for my purposes. Doesn't Smarty Mart sell African wildlife?"

"What?" Milton's voice squeaked. "Like...lions, rhinos, and crocodiles?"

She leaned in and now there was absolutely no avoiding them! "Yes, Milton; like lions, rhinos, and crocodiles. Take me to your African Wildlife Department!"

**RSVP**

The recounting of the events in the Possible basement took time to tell to the gathering in the main room of the warehouse restaurant. Not only for the storms of tears shared by Anne, Jim, and Joss Possible over the loss of another family member as well as the prospect that Mr. Dr. Possible was lost once more, as well. Felix was still in shock and grieving for the double loss of his mother and his girlfriend. And the former Middleton High Cheer Squad mourned the death of their fellow cheerleader, Jessica.

Ron sat a little apart, his head down and his arms around his little sister as he took in all that was being said. What he-or Z-Ron-thought or felt about the clandestine activities of the past few weeks, the attempts to construct an Einstein-Rosen bridge to tunnel through space and time back to the moment before his home exploded, the lost chance to save his parents, these new deaths of his friends, and the return of the Warlordians...there was no indication on his shadowed features or hunched posture. Only the barely perceptable tightening of his arms around Hana's body gave any indication that he was listening, at all.

Finally, after the stories were told, the questions were asked...and answered to the degree that there were any known answers, when all words had dissolved away to the sounds of softer weeping, he finally spoke.

"There are thing that must be done," he began in a gentle voice, "for now." He passed Hana off to Yoshi and slowly rose to his feet. "There are calls that must be made...and the dead and wounded to attend to." He looked around the room. "And then...a council of war."

**RSVP**

The woman had walked past most of the dangerous African wildlife in the Extreme section of the Smarty Mart Pet Department, the lions, the hippos, the rhinos, the black mambos, the crocodiles-though she had paused at the shark tank-before selecting her purchase. Apparently she had researched the beasts quite thoroughly before coming because she needed no explanations for their care and feeding. Or what their large, sharp teeth were capable of.

All too soon she had made her arrangements for transport, paid with cash, and departed, leaving a very dazed Milton Forbusher at the Pet Department register with a little drool at the corner of his mouth and a hint of a nosebleed in his left nostril.

"Man!" the Second Assistant Manager exclaimed, walking up behind him. "Did you see that chick's-?"

"Yessssss," Milton interrupted, cutting him off.

_Her eyes._

_Like twin suns!_

_A man could be blinded,_ he thought, _were he to gaze directly at them for too long..._

****RSVP****

"One thing," the azure-hued woman said before he could turn away.

The alien...

Z-Ron mentally shook his head. _In the midst of all of the death and destruction and craziness and Warlordian's in orbit, he had forgotten about the blue girl in their midst._

"What is it?" he asked her, wondering about what part she had to play in all of this.

"I must know..." She turned to Barkin. "Is he...the Great Blue?"

The hulking figure that had figured so prominently in Ron Stoppable's high school education now rose to his feet and glowered down at the freckled blond with cold, baleful eyes.

Z-Ron stared back but cracked a goofy grin. "What say, Mr. B.? Am I the galactic general-type? Or just a stellar slacker?"

Barkin's gaze intensified and, suddenly his eyes turned red, bathing Ron in twin beams of coruscating, ruby light.

"Scanning..." Steve Barkin intoned in an inhuman voice that no longer sounded anything like the ex-vice-principal's.

****RSVP****

In the hours that followed, ambulances and firetrucks were dispatched. Global Justice deployed, calling ex-director Director for an on-site consult. The M.E. came. Police were turned away by the F.B.I. who were, in turn, taken off the case by the N.S.A.

Who were benched along with the C.I.A. by Global Justice.

Nobody noticed the ninjas.

A half a world away an opium operation was busted by a woman calling herself Lady Justice accompanied by a hammer-swinging man in black robes who called himself The Judge.

No one noticed them, either, because of NASA's news release concerning an alien spacecraft that had just decloaked in earth orbit.

****RSVP****

Shego climbed out of the pit that was once the basement of the Possible house. Once again alien invaders from the Planet Lowardia had destroyed Anne Possible's home.

But this time it had been occupied.

Ron Stoppable's former Chief of Security had returned, expecting to provide his people with valuable intel and stolen tech that would keep him safe without the need for her to stick around.

But she had found chaos and grief and loss of a scale she hadn't anticipated…

…and quickly understood that there was no easy exit for her now.

They weren't dealing with hapless villains like Duff Killigan and Frugal Lucre now. An interstellar threat that potentially threatened the whole planet had returned and their friends and family were ground zero of the opening salvo of this new war with superior forces and technologies.

She walked over and sat down next to Ron Stoppable who was perched on a pile of rubble. His head was down and he appeared to be staring down into the excavated basement but, in reality she knew, he was staring into a pit that was deeper, darker, and more perilous than anything in the real world.

She reached over and laid her hand on top of his. When he didn't respond, she said: "The bodies have all been recovered and the funeral arrangements are being attended to. We've salvaged all of the equipment that was redeemable and moved it to the warehouse. Anne and Jim and Joss recovered any personal items—and there wasn't much after the Lowardians finished destroying the house." She gave his hand a squeeze. "We should get back to the warehouse."

"I can't go yet," he answered in a dull voice.

"There's no reason to stay."

His head came up and he jutted his chin toward the ruins of the house. "I have to talk to her, first."

Shego looked up and across the wreckage surrounding the yawning hole in the ground.

There, on the other side of the pit stood the glowering visage of a very pissed off Kim Possible.

**RSVP**

"Okay, let's summarize," Agent Du said to the four Ron Stoppables seated around the foot of his hospital bed. "The four of you are clones, developed from DNA samples taken from the original Ron Stoppable sometime during his Junior year."

"Which was how long ago?" Dean asked. "I mean, we know some time has passed since the samples were harvested but DNAmy was sorta unclear about that…"

"…seeing as how we were busy beating her mutant monkey army…" Ronald continued.

"…while wrapping the crazy lady in vines and bungee cords!" Ron finished.

"And, dude; are you like dating Camille Leon?" The Ronster asked.

**RSVP**

He made the approach, circling the ruins of her home and coming within ten feet before stopping.

He waited for a moment but she seemed disinclined to speak first.

"Your brother—"

"I know," she growled.

"I'm sorry."

Her head came up though she was already staring at him as if she could set him on fire with her eyes. "Sorry for what, Ron?"

"For your loss."

"What do you know about my loss?" she challenged.

"I know…something…about loss…"

She continued to stare at him. "Oh, yes. You went to Japan. Ran off and got married. Guess that didn't work out. Came back here and have been managing your…_loss_…with a warehouse full of women. How's that working out for you?"

"I thought maybe you'd like to see your mother and brother," he answered. "And your cousin. Your friends…"

"How many of them have you screwed?"

He stared back at her without flinching. "Okay, then. I'll let you decide when you'd like to have a constructive conversation. In the meantime, I'm truly sorry for your family's losses." He turned and began to walk away.

"Losses?"

"I count you as one of them."

"Hey, you don't know me!" she yelled at his retreating back.

"Obviously," he called back, continuing to walk away.

"Yeah, that's right!" She shouted after another moment. "Leave! Go back to your whores! Tell your favorite—the green one—that I'll kill her the next time I see her!"

He raised a hand with a dismissive wave but kept walking.

"Right over here, Princess," Shego called. "You got anything to say, you can say to me."

"You—you're a lousy lay!" Kim bellowed.

"Newsflash, Kimmie: you can't know a lousy one unless you've had a good one. And we all know that's not the case, right Ronnie?"

He sighed. "Leave her alone, Sheila. This is a very bad time for her."

"Bad time? I'll show you a bad time!"

"Already did, Pumpkin!

Ron stopped halfway between the two of them and hung his head. "_Stop_ it! Both of you! You want to fight? Save it until after the funerals! Truce! Okay? Just…truce."

"I will if she will," Shego snarked.

"Don't give her the power," Ron retorted. "Be better than her."

Kim took a step back as if she had been physically struck.

"And you," he turned back to the redhead, "if you don't give a fuck that one of your brothers is dead and your father may be lost forever, then come and hug your mother while she's grieving. Pretend that you owe her something for giving you life and caring for you for the past two decades."

"I—I can't come there—"

"Well…maybe I can fix that…"

**RSVP**

Thirty-three thousand miles above Middleton, Colorado, a Lowardian battle-cruiser kept station in geo-synchronous orbit.

Major Ursula Minor was holed up in her cabin, going through stacks of invasion plans, looking for a unique approach to a unique set of circumstances.

There was evidence that Warhok and Warmonga's expedition had ended here in failure. Trace remains of thousands of war machines were scattered about the planet and there was no sign of the two warriors or their destroyer.

Nine out of ten times two Lowardians and a ship full of battle droids would be more than enough to subdue an inhabited planet. The fact that she had arrived in a larger ship with a squad of eight Lowardian elites, was no guarantee that she would be successful with a straight-out confrontation. She had already lost two commandos against a handful of these Earthers—most of them adolescents and unprepared. Then there were the rumors of this Great Blue and sensor readings suggesting the energy signatures of another extraterrestrial spaceship.

Deciding that a direct attack risked too many unknown variables, Ursula discarded the first seven attack plans, shoving the folders to the side. The eighth plan had some promise—an infiltration plot involving shrink rays and camouflage technology (something they had stolen from those spineless Uptopians).

But that wouldn't gain them much but preliminary intelligence and the opportunity for some guerrilla warfare before their subterfuge would be discovered.

She needed something to soften up the opposition and give her a better sense of their strengths and weaknesses. And, if there was some sort of alien alliance—or even the Great Blue of legend—she needed a strategy that would flush either or both out of the shadows.

Tossing the folder aside, she picked up the next one and skimmed the first couple of pages. Nodding to herself, she flipped through the remaining pages and then began to read from the beginning, again, a slow smile spreading across her face.

An hour later she was finished and opened a communications link to the rest of her ship. "Attention, attention, prepare for a briefing in the battle-ops room. We will commence to implement Plan Nine as soon as the reanimation equipment can be calibrated and brought online."

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: See "About The Title" at the end of the last chapter...<strong>

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>**_ I should probably massage this more instead of posting a first draft but I wanted to get this up before the end of the year. Been a tough month and this has taken far longer than it should have. Happy Holidays to all of you and may 2014 be a better year for all of us..._**

**_(12/13/14) Holy cow! Where did the year go! Just one more chapter before I'm all caught up!_**

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><p><strong><em>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 42<em>**

_GabrielBlade 12/29/13 chapter 42_

If that's a first draft, you don't really need to worry about polishing it much, it's already pretty good.

Also, that's a brilliant reference to perhaps one of the worst movies of all time!

**_Which movie? Robot Monster? R~13_**

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><p><em>CajunBear73 1230/2013 chapter 42_

So 'Plan Nine' "From Outer Space"...is about to commence?...Hope all the chaos on the ground in Middleton pauses before this accomplishes its aims.

The ladies are still scrambling for Ron's affections while the "Rons" are settling their 'differences'...Hope Z is on the level about his claims because I think Ron's going to need every aspect of his Whole and Sum of His Parts for what's coming. Hope he's quite brutal to the invaders and they learn to leave this spec in the universe alone.

But Shego and Kim are about to wage WWIII on the grounds of Kim's newfound grief. That alteration made at the first lair is still messing her up and Ron still can't remember everything about her. Maybe what he's trying to do for her will help them both. Realizations and healing?

CB73

**_I can tell you that Ron is going to be in a real bad mood very soon. Don't say that I didn't warn you... R~13_**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 1230/2013 chapter 42_

I can say Rippy that there is a lot of stuff going on...Zorpo...errrrr Z might be in the mix and somehow Kimmie followed Shego back to the warehouse. Funny how Ron made tons of sense huh/

ST-103

**_Which one? ;-) R~13_**

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><p><em>zafnak 1230/13 chapter 42_

Plan Nine...from outer space? Bwa ha ha ha ha!

**_Why is everyone snickering about the Ninth Invasion Plan? I don't get it... R~13_**

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><p><em>the Desert Fox 1230/2013 chapter 42_

A good chapter. Shego saw Captain Shaula, so Ron would've been there when she showed up. Hmm, must not think too hard about author's screwiness. I see "Zorpox" has gotten smarter, and intelligent. I like this Zorpox better than the one in cartoon. If Zorpox is supposed to be Ron's evil side, he needs to be more creative, more villain like, sort of like Senor Senior Senior, but younger.

Using Republicans as an insult? Really? Good thing you didn't use that. It's like Draco Malfoy insulting you and you respond with "Shut up, Malfoy." Bonnie is more creative than that.

DF: Hey Amscray check this out, the author was being insulting again.  
>AM: Injustice! The author is a weak baka onna!<p>

**_A weak baka onna? I think we could have a debate about the term "weak"..._**

Later.

Walter Nelson? Seems a little lame if you ask me. How about something a little weirder like Dr. Drakken or Frugal Lucre or even using Tara as the other occupant in Kim's bed.

**_Yeah, it was late and I was tired. I was just thinking of that Newhart closer as him being in bed with his former TV wife. So I went with the first "boyfriend" we know of Kim having. (Yeah, yeah-don't everybody else write in and say that Walter wasn't her boyfriend, they just locked braces-I know! I was just going for the time-gap vibe ala Newhart...) R~13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler chapter 42 . 11/14_

Still trying to assimilate everything that's happened. Will check in later (after ingesting significant quantities of anti-psychotics and herbal tea; *THAT'S* how overwhelming the author is getting).

_**Which might explain why the author has taken nearly a year to get caught back up to this point in his rewrites! Pass the pills, please and thank you! R~13**_

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><p><em>loganhunter2 chapter 42 . 115/14_

Well I'm current ... so ron is gonna go ssj 3 and destroy an alien army just to relax and then talk to kim?

_**Hmmmmmmm...sounds like a plan... R~13**_

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><p><em>BartWLewis chapter 42 . 37/14_

Please update soon. For the love of Deadpool, I need to see what happens next.

_**Me, too! R~13**_


	43. The Second Coming

**Authors / Notes: _Well, here we are, the last reposted chapter of the series before the next chapter takes us into wholly new territory. I just reposted the previous chapter just yesterday and didn't expect to have this chapter ready so soon but Uberscribbler started Ubernagging me in my PM box and I decided to reward him for hanging in there. (Besides, there was very little editing needed and no new scenes...)_**

_**As to how much or how often I'll be able to reward him or the silent majority of you strange people who still read this weird tale in the future, I can only say: "Nagging can be a good thing..." (Just don't tell my wife I said that!)**_

_**Drop me a PM or a Review, and let me know you guys are still alive out there! And best wishes to you all for the holidays!**_

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> _The author of this work does not own nor does he profit by the use of Disney's "Kim Possible" nor the poem "The Second Coming" by William Butler Yeats nor "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens, quoted by Señor Senior, Senior. This story is for non-profit, entertainment purposes only._

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><p><strong>Chapter 43 – The Second Coming<strong>

**_Turning and turning in the widening gyre_**_**  
><strong>_**_The falcon cannot hear the falconer_**

After a long silence he took another look around the room and sighed. "Are there any questions?" he asked reluctantly.

Another long silence ensued.

"Soooooo," Zita finally spoke, "you are saying that you are _not_ Ron Stoppable…"

He sighed and shook his head. "No, I _am_ Ron Stoppable. Just not the 'complete' package." He started to elaborate further but Monique interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah, we got it—I think. Gestault. Id, Ego, Superego. Except there's way more parts: Cooking Ron, Mad Dog Ron, Sidekick Ron, Monkey Master Ron, Goofy Ron—"

"Zorpox," Shego interjected.

His hand itched to pull a face palm. "I explained all tha—"

"Yeah, yeah," Shego waved a hand, "don't think I don't get the whole 'reformed villain' thing. Been there, done that."

"Still…" Tara added, "…with the main ingredient missing, how close is what's left actually like the Ron Stoppable we all know and love?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Did I seem different to you these past few days?"

The expressions of the faces around the room ranged from confused to thoughtful but more than a couple were nodding their heads. "Yes," Anne said. "You've been more focused. Almost compartmentalized."

"And I got the distinct vibe that you were a man with a plan," Betty added. "What have you been working on?"

"Survival, I guess," he answered after a moment's thought. "Most of Ron's personality fragments have been aware of their own separate natures, apart from the whole. But the trauma of these past few months have brought some of us to the fore while others have retired in the face of his empowerment and new skill-sets. And with the 'landlord' on vacation, I've seen my role as being guardian and protector until he returns."

"Guardian and protector of _Ron_," Vivian qualified.

"Well, yes," he admitted. "I am loyal to _him_. Because he's _me_. So, it's my _own_ survival and well-being as well as his. But it goes beyond that. Ron Stoppable has made various commitments to the care and protection of this…um…community. I am constantly analyzing and assessing how I may honor those commitments. _And_ keep the peace. And not find myself in _trouble_ when he returns."

There were wry looks all around.

"But where did he go?"

"And when will he return?"

He held up his hands. "Still trying to figure that out. But I keep coming back to this overwhelming feeling that he's…gone…to be…uh…with Yori."

There were gasps all around the room. A few sobs.

"But I was geeven to understand that thees Yoree was dead."

"I know that _he_ believed it. _We_ believed it! We—both of us—were there when it happened! But…" He turned and looked at Kyoko Yoshiko. Then at Hope. "…there have been incidents since then to indicate that our beloved has not quite departed this plane."

"Are you saying that her body survived?" Betty asked.

"I…don't know…" He looked at Yoshi.

"She has come to me in my dreams," the newly released Asian woman said softly. "But she comes through me because she cannot come here in the flesh…"

He looked at Hope who shrugged. "You say I've sleep-walked and acted odd a couple of nights. I have no memory of any of that."

"But—but—if she's dead and a ghost," Monique pondered, "then where does _our_ Ron go if he goes to be with her?"

**_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;_**_**  
><strong>_**_Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,_**

Over time the white room had faded.

As had their bodies.

It was all an illusion anyway as they did not actually occupy a physical space nor inhabit their respective bodies. Their souls had found one another and were together in a realm between real/time and real/space.

Ron and Yori communed and shared their thoughts, their emotions, on a level beyond words, beyond the limitations of form and structure and separate existances.

They became One.

And so, both were content to wait for a return to physical world and the reunion of their physical bodies whenever that should happen…

…_if_ ever that should happen…

…but, for now, they were together and that was all that mattered.

Until…

_…there was a tug…_

**_The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere_**_**  
><strong>_**_The ceremony of innocence is drowned_**_;_

During the long descent in the secured elevator, Hirotaka had felt a chill of doubt.

As a ninja, he was used to walking into traps that he could not otherwise avoid.

And fighting his way back out.

If possible.

There was always the possibility that he could lose…everything.

Everything being his life up to this point.

_But now there was more than his life at stake._

There was the child that was under his protection, now.

Yori's _child_.

And _Yori_, herself, comatose and helpless upstairs…

Even though he had long ago given up hope that she might return his affections, he still loved her. And if she might wake and find that The Chosen One had abandoned her…

He shook his head in disgust: these were not honorable thoughts. Should she—_when_ she woke, she would find him there, at her side. Her friend. And she would make of it as she would. And he would be content to let her heart guide her in the path she would take her forward from this place, whether it was back to The Chosen One's arms.

Or his.

Or another's…

The elevator finally stopped and the doors opened.

Following the doctor out, Hirotaka found himself deep underground, in a chamber beneath the Senior home.

While portions of the walls were roughly hewn rock, other parts were covered in white tiles and stainless steel. There was a small medical clinic situated in the main chamber but it was the chamber beyond that drew his eye.

As the doctor led him forward he saw that the two devices that looked like space-age tanning beds were actually some kind of life-support chambers.

And one of them was occupied.

**_The best lack all conviction, while the worst_**_**  
><strong>_**_Are full of passionate intensity._**

Kim Possible paced through her lair in the mountains above Middleton.

Seeing Ron, again, had brought a flood of emotions that she was ill-prepared to deal with.

The removal of that moodulator chip had helped with her anger—at least she wasn't "stuck" in angry mode all the time now.

But that didn't mean that all of her anger was gone, though.

Now that the artificial setting on her mood was gone, there was a backlog of emotion to catch up on and process.

And she _still_ had a lot to be angry about.

First of all, she was still processing all those feelings from when (she thought) "Ron" had attacked her.

Oh, she knew better, now, but—for most of the past year—she had believed that Ron had gone mad, had attacked her and threatened her family. The fact that she now understood that she had been attacked by a synthodrone (and that Ron had been nowhere near her that night) didn't automatically erase months of nightmares and the trauma that she had endured, seeing his leering face above her as he sought to handcuff her to her bed.

And then there was the matter of him—the _real_ Ron—_not_ trying to find her after she went missing.

Again, she now understood that he had suffered his own emotional trauma and still struggled with some weird form of amnesia. But, hey! _She_ hadn't forgotten _him_! So why should _he_ get a pass on wimping out on his trauma?

And supposing she did cut him some slack for not coming and finding her?

How had he spent the past year while she rotted away in convent?

He had gotten _married!_

Run off and married _Yori!_

_Made a baby with her! _

And it had all happened pretty quickly judging from his wife's swollen belly…

Then he had run off and abandoned his wife and his unborn child—_sensing a pattern here?_ And turned into the Hugh Hefner of Upperton!

Oh, no! Ron didn't get to play Mr. Innocent here! He had things to answer for!

Answer to _her!_

But…how?

And…what?

_This_ would require more planning…

She came to a secure door and entered the password that granted her entry. It slid aside and she entered a forbidding chamber filled with racks and consoles of complex electronics, multiple monitors, a giant view screen and a massive throne.

Occupying the throne was a helmeted figure wearing an imposing costume straight out of the villains' wardrobe from a Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers episode.

A distorted but clearly "evil" voice boomed out of the speakers located throughout the chamber: "Cousin Kimberly! How may the Fist-of-Mastermind be of assistance?"

Kim shook her head in equal parts annoyance and disbelief. "Jeez, Larry! Do you ever take that outfit off? Or do you sleep in it as well?"

"Of course not, Kimberly," the voice boomed. "I have created my very own Fist-of-Mastermind pajamas, befitting my rank and station."

Kim smirked. "Oh really? And did they come with 'footies' and a cape?"

"Don't be silly, Cuz. A cape would get tangled up in the sheets. Now, how may I help you? Would you like a report on our plot to pit the Taliban against ISIS?"

"Something a little more complicated, Lar—"

"Fist-of-Mastermind, if you please."

Kim snapped her fingers a couple of times. "Hey, Mr. Method Actor! You work for me, remember? I'm the Mastermind, you're just the fist!"

"And yet—"

She growled. "Don't go there! Now I need to brainstorm a plan to lure Ron out of his base and make him my prisoner here."

"Hmmmm. Quick and dirty with lots of fire power and heavy collateral damage? Or slow and finessed where you get him here without leveling city blocks and leaving a trail of bodies?"

Kim considered, taking a few seconds longer than should have been reassuring.

"The latter, I guess. I don't want anyone to get killed. But I do plan on some payback…" Unconsciously she smacked her right fist into her left palm. "Oh, yeah! Payback's a bitch! And her name is Kim Possible!"

**_Surely some revelation is at hand;_**_**  
><strong>_**_Surely the Second Coming is at hand_****.**

Hirotaka stared down into the cryo-stassis chamber where Señor Senior Senior lay. Tubes and wires cocooned his frail body and hoses carrying waiting coolant smoked as their extreme cold met the warmer air in the room.

"I had these built for my wife and I when we were younger," the billionaire wheezed as he held the respirator away from his face so that he could talk. We thought that we might cheat death together—be frozen to wake up in some distant future when science could cure us or give us new bodies. But my dear Conchita died suddenly—violently—and far from home—so there was no chance of hoping for a distant future together.

He took a deep breath from the respirator and coughed. "Perhaps someday my son…" He shook his head. "I do not know. I don't even know why I am bothering with this. I have lived a rich, full life and I could let it all go…go to be with my dear wife…"

Another deep breath. Another coughing spasm. "I have seen to my legacy but…I am not so sure, now…

"Kim Possible," Hirotaka said.

"Kim Possible Senior," the dying man corrected. "There is no time to undo all that I have done. But, perhaps, some wrongs may still be righted. In a few moments they will begin the freezing process. It will be easier for me if I know that the little one is safe. Upstairs, in your room—under your bed—is a bag. It contains five-hundred thousand dollars, a passkey to every room in my home, and the keys to my yacht in the bay. I do not know when Kimberly will return so I urge you to go upstairs now, take the child, and leave the island as soon as possible. Take the child to her father. Protect them both…"

Hirotaka opened his mouth. "Yori—"

The old man shook his head. "Cannot be moved. It would kill her. The doctor and the staff have been given very specific orders for her care and protection.

"I should stay—"

"What would the child's mother want you to do?"

Hirotaka looked away. "I am not sure that the father—"

"She loved him—_loves_ him," the old man countered, anticipating the young man's bias. "And the child_ is _his daughter. My sources tell me that he has mourned their deaths, not suspecting that both are alive. Kimberly would keep them apart. Are you with _her_ in this?"

Hirotaka sighed and shook his head. "I shall do as you ask. Thank you, Senior-san." He bowed. "Would you like me to stay with you for awhile?"

The old man closed his eyes and smiled. "You are very kind, my boy. But I will rest easier and make this final transition better knowing that you were able to escape with the child before it is too late." He reached out with a cold and trembling hand and took Hirotaka's within his feeble grasp. "Go…and give this tired old man some peace of mind as he slips into a long, cold sleep…"

Hirotaka gave the old man's withered hand a gentle squeeze and then bowed to him. "I am honored to serve you in this," he said softly before turning to leave.

The doctor stepped in to take his place. "It is time, Señor."

"As you will, Doctor. Let us begin." As the first round of chemicals entered his veins to prepare him for the freezing process, Señor Senior, Senior closed his eyes. "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done," he whispered. "It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known…"

A cold darkness claimed him as he thought of the baby girl up above and whether that might prove to be his greatest legacy after all.

**_The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out_**_**  
><strong>_**_When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi_**_**  
><strong>_**_Troubles my sight_**

Jim Possible and Wade Load contemplated the scorched and twisted remains of the Einstein-Rosen bridge scattered across the floor of the large storage room. Everything that could be excavated and extracted from the rubble in the Possible Basement had been brought here after the bodies had been delivered to the funeral homes.

Pieces of the apparatus were missing and some parts were easily salvageable. In-between were a vast array of disassembled equipment that fell into the vast range of "iffy" at best.

"Like this?" Brick asked, trying to align the row of metal rings that had served as a space/time conduit to the Stoppable home in the past.

"I'm guessing that those rings were supposed to be more flat and circular," Monique observed. "These things look like melted hulu-hoops.

"Maybe Big Mike could hammer them out," Zita suggested.

"No! No!" Both Wade and Jim threw out their hands in horror.

"We need time to think," both said simultaneously.

"Jinx," Monique said, "you both owe me a soda!"

The look both of them gave her made her want to slink away and hide.

Upstairs, in Dr. Vivian Porter's labs, Felix Renton maneuvered an old fashioned wheelchair around the maze of work tables and began soldering another component onto a large circuit-board.

The blonde scientist felt equal parts pity and admiration for the handicapped young man. He had been pushing himself to the limit in the last forty-eight hours, working around the clock and taking very little time for food or rest.

"Felix…"

"Yes, Dr. Porter?" He did not even look up.

"It's Vivian, Felix."

"What can I do for you, Doct—Vivian?" The soldering iron never wavered.

_More like what can I do for you?_ she thought. _You really need to take a long break and get some sleep… _

"I was thinking we could take a break and look at your cyber-chair. Maybe I could help you get it up and running.

He shook his head and held the circuit-board up to inspect his work. "I don't know if the chair is salvageable," he said absently as he picked up another component. "I looked it over and, if it is repairable, it will take days of work—if not weeks. Right now nothing is more important than beefing up our defenses and the weapons systems. The next time those alien bastards show up they're going to be sorry they ever heard of our planet much less came back here!"

"We'll be ready, Felix," she assured him.

"No!' He put the component and the soldering iron down and scrubbed at his suddenly raw eyes. "You weren't there! You didn't see…what they…_did!_" His voice caught for a moment. They're big! They're powerful! Their tech makes ours look like stone knives and bearskins! But I'm not going to let them do what they did to Justine…to my mom! To _anyone_ else! I'll _kill_ them! I'll _kill_ them all! And, if I can, I'll _hurt_ them first! Hurt them real bad!"

And, abruptly, he spun the old wheelchair around and rolled away as fast as his shaking hands could propel him.

Meanwhile, in Anne Possible's apartment, three redheads stared at the ray-rifle with varying degrees of trepidation.

Anne Possible's hair was bright like arterial blood, her niece's a darker shade of auburn, and Betty Director's was darker still, like smoky garnet.

_Far too many redheads, now_, Shego thought. _And if Kimmie comes back…_

"What did you call it again? The former head of Global Justice asked.

"A Rejuvinator. Doctor D—" Shego gave Betty a look. "—the other Doctor D—invented it to reverse the aging process. Turn this little knob here and you can set the number of years you want to erase from the person you aim it at. This setting, here, adds those years that were removed, back on."

Joss looked at the others and swallowed. "Why is everybody a-starin' at me?"

**_Somewhere in sands of the desert_**_**  
><strong>_**_A shape with lion body and the head of a man,_**_**  
><strong>_**_A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,_**_**  
><strong>_**_Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it_**_**  
><strong>_**_Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds._**

"Major Ursula," her attendant spoke as the alien strike force leader made adjustments to the sighting device for the Lowardian Resurrection Ray. "This planet has revolved through two full Earthian days since you decided to implement Invasion Plan Nine…"

"Yet I have failed to resurrect a single graveyard into a zombie army to attack our enemies?" Ursula Minor finished for him as she locked in the fourth set of coordinates. She turned away from the sighting mechanism. "There is an old Earth saying I ran across in my initial military assessment: 'know your enemy.' I've been researching this so-called Big Blue and his inner circle. I think a little probing will be beneficial before opening the gates of hell."

"Beneficial?" her attendant echoed.

"Painful and entertaining," Ursula elaborated.

**The darkness drops again; but now I know****  
><strong>**That twenty centuries of stony sleep****  
><strong>**Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle**

"You still haven't answered my question," he said as she closed the door behind her.

"Which one is that?" she asked as she moved to close the door to Hana's room. "Why did I leave? Where did I go? Why did I come back? Am I staying? What do I want?" She wandered over to a chair and sat down—not too close and not too far.

"All of them," he answered. "Any of them. Talk to me."

"Talk to who?" she asked, draping an arm casually across the back of her chair. "You've already told us that you're not him."

"I _am_ him. Mostly. I'm all you've got for now. Maybe forever. Does it matter so much?"

She nodded. "Yes…and maybe not…so much…"

"For all intents and purposes, I am Ron Stoppable. I have his memories, his feelings, his skill sets…his body…"

"His feelings?"

He nodded. "When I look at you, I feel what he feels…"

"And what does…_he_…feel?"

"I—am not sure that it's my place to say."

"What? A while ago you're all 'I am Ron Stoppable. I speak with his voice. I'm the new and improved edition'."

"Stop! Do you think this is easy for me?"

"What? Impersonating our friend?"

"Being here with you!" he snapped.

She sat up. "What the hell does that mean?"

Resting his arms on his knees he clasped his hands and stared down at the floor between his feet. "We—he—is very conflicted. He loved Kim Possible…"

"Loved? As in past tense?"

"I don't know. The synthodrone really did a number on him and there were issues well before that. He's buried the memories of her so deep that it really doesn't matter if he still could love her or not: he doesn't _remember_ her. He doesn't know who she is. Hell, _nobody_ knows who she is, now. It's not like she invites any warm and fuzzy feelings these days. Just having her around raises the hair on the backs of our necks…

"But the emotional issues are still having an effect on his feelings toward others. The death of Rufus. His parents. The responsibilities of raising his little sister."

"His dead wife," she added.

"Oh, yeah," he said, "I was getting to that." He looked up and there was a universe of pain in his softly glowing eyes. "She was my wife, too. And when he says 'it's too soon' to you or anyone else, he means it. Though I'm not sure if it ever _won't_ be 'too soon.'"

He sighed. "Everyone else just complicates it. All of you are his family, now. He's straining to protect everyone. To heal those who are wounded…"

"Like him?"

He nodded. "And keep the peace."

She smiled wryly. "Some are willing to share…"

"Others aren't." He looked at her. "Are you?"

She leaned back. "What? Share?" Her smile was sardonic.

"Isn't that why you left?"

"I—uh—"

"You saw him with Yoshi. You knew he was unconscious…"

She waved her hand. "I've heard the explanation. Saw him with Rockwaller that same night. And with the sugar-plum princess a few days before. For a guy who's supposed to be practicing celibacy right now he sure gets around."

"And that hurts you."

She opened her mouth but had no ready answer.

"He wants you."

Now she really had no answer.

"_We_ want you. But…it's…complicated…"

"It's complicated," she echoed. "God, what an easy answer when nobody wants to commit. To make the tough decisions."

"I could say the same thing about cutting and running."

Her head came up at that but her face was like stone. "I'll commit. I'll stay and do my job. For the next few months, at least. But my services come with a price."

"And that price doesn't involve more money, does it?" There was very little question in his voice.

"I want a child."

That caught him off guard. It took him a few moments to find his voice. "I thought you couldn't have children?"

Her smile was wry, bordering on bitter. "Remember that from rummaging around in my head, do you?"

He spread his hands. "It was an equal exchange. You got a tour of Ronworld, as well."

She shook her head. "That's another conversation for another time. Right now we're talking about my price."

"I'm not an adoption agency."

"I don't want to adopt."

"But you can't have children—get pregnant, I mean."

"Maybe I can."

"Freeze your eggs? Surrogate mother?"

She shook her head again. "My eggs, my womb, the whole three trimesters, _in situ_."

The glow in his eyes flashed and grew brighter. "And you need sperm that can survive the trip through the radioactive kill-zone and provide genetic material strong enough to survive, flourish, and replicate for another nine months."

She put a gloved hand to his cheek. "You sweet talker…"

**And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,****  
><strong>**Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?**

Sensei stood over the troubled mound of soil in the sacred glen and pondered.

At his direction the gardener had enlarged the hole where the remains of the Chosen One's naked mole rat had been laid to rest. The battered old shoebox was still in that hole, though much diminished by moisture and rot.

Rufus-san, however, was not.

There was no sign of him…

…save for the hole in the lid that appeared to have been chewed from the inside out.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE: Well, unlike the last two chapter titles, I decided to go "all in" and use the title of Yeat's poem, The Second Coming, and then chop up the verses and use them as scene breaks for the chapter. Disclaimer, of course: All scene breaks in this chapter (centered and in boldface) are the words of W.B. Yeats and are only utilized in this work of fan fiction as a fannish promotion of Yeats' wonder poem. No profit is gained or accrued to the author of this fan fiction.<strong>

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 43<strong>

_BartWLewis chapter 43 . 4/6/14_

So Kim is insane, Shego wants a baby, and Rufus is alive, and also Ron is about to receive his child from Yori. Ron has quite alot on his plate. But he can totally do it.

_**Well..."insanity" is such a broad term...but we're somewhere in the ballpark, here, and I can smell the hot dog vendors; I hear that Shego is one, bad Mother...(hush my mouth!); I'm not sure Zombie Rufus qualifies as alive; and don't count your babies until they're fully ninja does have a lot on his plate, in his soup bowl, tossed in with his side salad, and hidden in a doggie bag under the table: but he may well be able to do it...with a little help from his friends! R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 chapter 43 . 46/14_

So many things in motion right now, and all of them hinge upon Ron 'returning' so explanations can be completed, plans can be solidified, promises kept and payback can be either redirected or given in full.

_**Really? You think the return of the Ron we know is going to be able to pull those things off? I am feeling an attack of the incredibly rising eyebrows coming on...**_

Complicated...Shego rebuked? This chapter ain't even close to complicated. Though her 'price' is one more complication to a situation already bursting with complications.

_**I think the word "complications" is vastly inadequate to describe what Shego's price might bring...**_

So I wonder if Kim caught Larry's lack of answer about the 'footies'?

_**Yeah, she didn't react to **_**his**_** lack of reaction. But, at least one sharp-eyed reader caught that telling ommission. Did anyone catch the "stone knives and bearskins" quote from Felix?**_

Or when Rufus and Hiro with child will appear. Kim's really going to freak more unless RON reappears, full and complete, to reign her in.

_**Oh yes, the freakage of Kim will be great and legendary!**_

Then there's the Interstellar Complication they have to regroup for.

_**Maybe Shakespeare got it wrong. Maybe the faults ARE in our stars and not ourselves!**_

CB73  
>Quite the complex chapter, well done.<p>

_**Thanks, CB! R~13**_

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><p><em>zafnak chapter 43 . 46/14_

Ahhhhhhhhh! Zombie Rufus! ::runs and hides::

**_No need to panic. Just leave the lights on on a 24-hour cycle and do not bathe or sleep without stuffing towels under all if the doors and windows! ...Uh grand mother: what big front teeth you have! R`13_**

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><p><em>Uberscribbler chapter 43 . 46/14_

My cup runnieh over. I'm quite sure Yeats is also turning over in his grave at the sight of his most famous bit of wordsmithing being used as it was intended.

_**Spinning, more likely...**_

Should I also be disturbed that everything was so darned...straightforward in this one? Yes, yes I think a degree of disquiet (if not outright panic) is justified in this case.

_**(Unnerving smile)**_

Please don't keep us awaiting for the climactic chapter(s) to this book. Any such delays will result in repeated PM'ing of the author, and we really don't want *that* do we?

_**Done and done! And it only took the better part of a year! R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 43 . 47/14_

"Some say he never blinks, and that he roams around the woods at night foraging for wolves. All we know is he's called the Stig."

_**And some say he never comes around here, preferring to hide out in the Top Gear FanFic site...**_

At first I thought Hirotaka was as dead as a doornail. Then I remembered it was the other dude who died, name started with an F. Whatever.

_**Fukushima.**_

I guess Kimmie hasn't fully recovered from being under the moodulator. Prolonged exposure has that sort of effect on people.

_**Well, then there's that Pendent of Anubis thingie that was invoked at the same time as Electronique's electro-blast that hasn't been properly addressed...**_

Someone needs to remind Felix that revenge jobs don't work. Unless your name is Danny Ocean. Did Ursula Major try around Florida. I hear that's where the Zombies are touring.

_**Boooooooo...leave the bad puns to me! ;-)**_

The last part before Sensei, "Ron" was talking with Shego.

_**Yup.**_

Finally about the weak baka onna from the previous chapter: At least he didn't call you a stupid bloody idiot/imbecile or say that you have the IQ of Jeremy Clarkson. And on that bombshell good night.

_**I wasn't disputing the "baka onna" part; only the word "weak". :-) R~13**_

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><p><em>RonaldWeasleyTheHero chapter 43 . 414/14_

FUK YEAH RUFUS!

_**Maybe Rufus...or maybe Something more sinister... R~13**_

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><p><em>darkadamant chapter 43 . 430/14_

at this point im probably the only one but i still root for kim and ron it obvious kim still loves him it's the only reason the chip could insight so much hate for him even with the reason she said she still mad no way all the girls or even yuri would bother her or anger her as it does if she didn't and ron well look i like the story of ron manning up but he did it to himself i guess since the girls don't know that yet they're sympathizing but at least the director and dare i say it shego knowing that kim was almost raped moodalated to in all sorts of ways case im guessing electronique told them and stuck in anger should atleast understand why shes a bitch and that ron still is very much a pussy cause if he was so secure with himself now he allow himself to remember damn sissy as you can see that fact is really why im not so pro ron not to mention he has no real ninja skills i mean really he only truly trained about a year through you story not that i dont think the potential was there but you would have thought he was trained not mmp empowered during the invasion any way great story you are one of my favorite kim possible writers so keep at it and cant wait for the next chapter and volume p.s when larry goes to bonnie for his date is going to be hilarious

_**Glad you remembered the "bait" for getting Larry on board. That should be "interesting" to say the very least. As for the rest? The story is still unfolding but we should be seeing some more answers, soon... R~13**_

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><p><em>Arthur Wellesley chapter 43 . 51/14_

Wanted to read through the whole thing before I reviewed. Addicting stuff, once I read one chapter I had to read them all. Heck, I'm not noramally even into this brand of fanfics, I somehow got caught on this winding road through deadpool, stargate, space/time... I think we killed Hitler somewhere in there too? I dunno... Anyways, by the Dark Lord Kromdor you got me hooked, sir, and I congratulate you for it. Good stuff. Because, to quote the madman: 'there's a storm a commin''. Not that there haven't been a few squals before, but now the aliens are once again in control of orbitals. Silly humans, don't you know that if there's one hostile alien out there then there are usually more? Even worse, your enemies aren't just in the skies either, as it seems our wayward heroine is finally setting the board to make HER play against our merry band of reprobates. So now we have three armies gearing up to fight (I don't count JG because... well, between Ron's obscene globabl popularity and influence and Betty's inside knowledge from her time as Director our lad and lassies could probably gut them if they had to), and if that weren't enough, our little alien spook has sent a call back to HER people as well. I wonder what THEIR response is going to be, seeing as how their opinion seems be split between arming us as allies in a war with the Lowardians, or glassing the planet to both curry favor with them and denying us as assets. Poor Ron, between all this and the competing women... I keep expecting Shortstop to pop up and exclaim at some point that: 'there's no time for love Doctor Jones!' ... either that or you'll have to work out a schedule or something, because damn if his plate ain't overflowing with shit.

**As elegant a summation as I could devise. And if he can't clean his plate right away, I shall still endeavor to make him eat his peas and carrots very soon! R~13**


	44. Robots and Aliens and Clones, Oh My!

**Authors/Notes: ****_Well, this chapter is finally finished (I think) so go ahead and feel free to post a review. (No, seriously, I insist!) Sorry it's taken me so long to get it done but at least I gave you something to tide you over into the New Year till it was done. I'm not sure it's such a good idea to post partial chapters so don't look for it to happen very often. My apologies to Uberscribbler for not forwarding a preview but it seemed kind of pointless given the three-stage rollout._**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> (Disclaimer as provided by Desert Fox back in Chapter 12) _I do not own anything but the plot, and any characters you don't recognize. If anyone thinks that I own any other character, I have a bridge I'd like to sell you or how about I introduce you to my good friend Napoleon XIV._

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><p><strong>Chapter 44 – Robots and Aliens and Clones—Oh My!<strong>

Of all of the ninjas of this generation that had trained at the Yamanouchi School under Sensei's tutelage, Hirotaka was considered the absolute best. Even Yori could not match his speed and dexterity when it came to evasive moves and multiple attacks.

Yet the spiky-haired ninja was struggling unsuccessfully with the simple duality of steering the Seniors' yacht away from the island (and any shipping/plane routes that Kim Possible might take in returning), while caring for a newborn baby.

While he had grabbed a bag full of diapers, formula, and disposable diapers on his way out, there was a lot more to dealing with an infant than just feedings and burpings and changings! Though those three things were very time consuming and labor intensive on their own!

It was clear that Hirotaka would need to find some help and restock his supplies very soon!

As he balanced the baby in one arm, he reached across the instrument panel to recheck his GPS location relative to the computerized charts on the view screen.

The charts disappeared.

An alarm began to sound.

A radar grid popped up on the screen displaying a blip that appeared to be a slowly descending airplane.

Holding the infant close to his chest, Hirotaka ran up to the observation deck and raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes.

The aircraft was indistinct for the moment but more distinct was the black parachute that was deploying beneath it!

Two!

Three black parachutes!

And they were gliding in his direction at an impressive rate of speed!

**RSVP**

Dr. Porter's lab was a little crowded as she and Shego were taking an up close and personal look at the "man" formerly known as Steve Barkin. Some of the Middleton graduates were huddled at the other end of the room, staring wide-eyed at their former vice principal and pedagogical nemesis.

"A robot…" Shego pondered. "My memory isn't too clear about that time I had been reverse-polarized and 'Stevie' here attempted to…romance…me." She walked around him again. "But it sort of explains a few things…"

"Like what?" Dr. Porter asked.

The green gladiatrix shot her a look that screamed _Don't Ask, Don't Tell!_

The blonde roboticist shrugged. "Just looking for any data regarding a humanoid robot of alien origin.

The Uptopian who had brought Barkin with her shook her head. "The _bR'kun_ is not a mere robot. These units are ancient constructs designed as planetary defenders by a long extinct alien race. They were scattered throughout the galaxy to report on and defend, if necessary, worlds that were seeded with intelligent life."

Shego muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like: _Yeah but why was he here? _

"bR'kuns are unique constructs," Shaula continued. "Though artificial in origin and design, they are almost a living organism. But nearly indestructible and programmable."

Dr. Porter put her hand on her hip and gave the sky-blue alien woman an intrigued look. "So, you're able to program this thing?"

Captain Shaula Lesath briefly considered a less honest answer that might provide her with some leverage but ultimately decided against it. "No. The technology of these…artifacts…is beyond the understanding of our greatest scientists. It is very old. It is very alien. And it is very dangerous!"

"Dangerous?" squeeked the former Middleton cheerleaders from the other side of the room.

"Jinx, you all owe me a soda," Jessica whispered.

"Dangerous?" Crystal repeated. "I thought all Barkin could do was scowl, yell, and give you detention."

The alien woman looked shocked. "A typical bR'kun could level an invading army, shoot hundreds of drones and manned skycraft out of the heavens. There are functional bR'kuns that have been discovered at the bottoms of oceans, in the vacuum of outer space, swimming in pools of molton lava—"

"So why is this one the Vice Principal at our old high school," Marcella asked, "instead of standing on one foot at the top of Mount Everest?"

The blue woman turned to regard the construct as intensely as Dr. Porter. "I do not know specifically," she said finally, "but it appears to be broken."

**RSVP**

"I thought you'd talked this out with her," Ron said, closing the door to Anne's apartment behind him.

The former Mrs. Dr. Possible raised her hands in a helpless gesture. "We _talked_. _All_ of us. Even Betty and Shego until I shooed them out. Aside from the _obvious_ reasons for her not wanting to, it didn't help that Betty and I have also had our ages altered and neither of us are seriously contemplating a return to our original state. And Shego…well…Joss accused her of having ulterior motives and wanting to thin the competition…"

"Oh boy…"

"Oh boy, is right. She locked herself in the bathroom and has refused to come out ever since." Anne glanced at the door in question and lowered her voice. "I don't mind saying that I'm more than a little worried. She was crying pretty hard at first but she's been quiet for over a half an hour now."

"I see," he murmured, looking at the floor. "And did she say that she wanted to see me?"

"No. But does she really need to?"

He sighed. "I'll see what I can do. I'll need you to give me the room."

"Of course. She went to the door that opened onto the hallway. "How long will you need?"

He rolled his shoulders and shook out his arms and hand. "Hell, Annie; I don't know. The rest of the afternoon and all night for all I know."

The older redhead hesitated, her hand on the doorknob. "No matter how old her body looks now, she's still just turned sixteen." She gave him a hard look. "And the age of consent in the state of Colorado is still seventeen."

Ron—or ZRon—returned her look with one that fell somewhere defiant and inscrutable. "I know that. Why do you think I've been giving her a wide berth? But did you know that age-of-consent is a little more complicated than the number seventeen?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The so-called Romeo-and-Juliet clause in Colorado. It allows for sexual intercourse between a fifteen or a sixteen year-old with a lover who is no more than ten years older. _And_ a fourteen-year-old can even have legal, consensual sex with someone up to the age of eighteen."

"So what are you saying, Z-Ron or whatever you're calling yourself, now? That you're going to take my niece's virginity?

There was a thump and a muffled "Whaaat?" from behind the bathroom door.

He nodded toward the outer door. "Please go now and let me handle this my own way. Trust me."

She gave him a doubtful look as she opened the outer door. "I trust Ron. You? Not so much."

And then he was alone in the Possible apartment.

Until the bathroom door unlocked and swung slowly open.

**RSVP**

"Is this really a good idea, Sir?" Agent Will Du asked the new head of Global Justice, Warren Pease.

They were looking down through the observation ports into a room where the four clones of Ron Stoppable were wearing headsets and seated at computer terminals.

"What? Speed-teaching our special operatives through their senior year of high school?" Mr. Pease asked. "Even though they are clones from Stoppable's junior year, it just wouldn't do to have them lagging any more behind the original than necessary."

"Booyah!" shouted one of the clones, "we're still boyfriend and girlfriend in our senior year!"

"Uh, special operatives, Sir?" Du queried, quite confused.

"Of course, William. I have been going through my predecessor's files—not just The Ron Factor, but some private data and analysis, as well. And then, of course, there's the Lowardian incident, as well. The man is a weapon of vast potential and I hope to lure him back into our service…"

"Coolio!" enthused another clone, "we were a football star!"

"But success or failure on that front, aside," the tall man with the bushy white hair continued, "we've been handed four more such weapons—not quite as far along as Stoppable Prime but that can work to our advantage! We can train them…"

"Hey, Kim got a car!"

"And a new outfit!"

"Get this: we work at Smarty Mart, now!"

"And we know Martin Smarty personally! Amazing!"

"Look! A big orange monster!"

"No, it's green!"

"Look again, Dude: orange!"

"It's a girl and she's green and like ten feet tall!"

"It's a guy and he's orange and a lot bigger than ten feet—oh my god, he's us!"

Director Pease gestured to the monitor with footage from the "Grande Size Me" files. "And since Mr. Stoppable has demonstrated the genetic potential for physical mutation and metamorphosis—giant beaver, orange hulk—we might just experiment with one of them to see if we can mutate and weaponize him."

Du blanched and his hands tightened in the rims of his wheelchair. "Is that…ethical…sir?"

The new director of Global Justice waved his hand.

"Well, they're not really human, Du. They're only clones. It's not like we'd be experimenting on the original. And, besides, we'd still have three left over if anything went wrong with the fourth."

Du shuddered a little. He had never been a fan of the amateur but the Pease's callous attitude toward the clones was making him more than a little uncomfortable with Betty Director's replacement.

"But look: there really is a big green alien chick!" The senior year speed learning session was continuing below.

"And speaking of green chicks, check out Miss Go!"

"Rrarrarrarrarrarrarrarrarrr! She's a teacher? I'd stay after school and clean her chalkboards any time!"

"And who's the blue chick with the electric personality?"

"Mannnnnn! We missed out on a bunch of stuff!

"Dudes, check it out: we made Homecoming King and Bon Bon put a big lip lock on our's truly!"

"Ooooooh mannnnnnnnn!"

The new director took the handles on Du's wheelchair and steered him away from the observation platform. "I'm thinking that we should begin indoctrinating the clones into a series of training programs as soon as possible."

"But sir," Du asked, "what if the clones want to return home instead of joining Global Justice? Would you hold them against their will?"

Du heard rather than saw the smile on the director's face as he spoke again. "There are all kinds of ways to redirect a man's will if you employ the right tools. Tell Camille Leon to report to my office as soon as possible. It's about time she started earning her parole status around here…"

**RSVP**

"Need some help?" the one blonde woman said to the other.

"No," Tara answered as she maneuvered her wheelchair over to the dresser and picked up her hairbrush. "I need to learn how to do for myself in case…" Her voice trailed off.

"In case you end up crippled permanently?" Adrena finished for her. She propped her feet up on a nearby chair and watched the young woman face in the mirror as Tara fought to control her emotions. "Smart. You'll heal faster and come back stronger if you're not lying around, waiting for something to happen first. Take it from someone who's had more than their fair share of injuries doing extreme sports and stunts."

"Thanks…" came the listless reply.

"I don't get it," the older woman said, pulling a cigarette from behind her ear and a slim lighter from her jeans' pocket. "The latest word is Big Red is out of the running and She-slut is just passing through. I know the competition might seem a little thick but I understand that loverboy likes you better than all of the others. If I was in the running that would put a big ole smile on my freaky face!"

"Sure, he _likes_ me," Tara said bitterly as she brushed out her long, platinum locks. "He's always liked me. But he never did anything about it! Not back when everybody but him could tell that I was crushing on him! Not back when I…" She hiccupped a little sob. "…when I was a whole woman…"

"Listen, Blondie, from where I'm sittin' you look like all woman to me." She flicked her lighter and lit the end of her cigarette.

"H-hey, you can't smoke in this building," Tara scolded.

Adrena Lynn shrugged, tilted her head back and blew a stream of smoke at the ceiling. "What can I say? I'm a bad woman." She smiled. "Want me to teach you?"

Tara almost dropped her brush. "W-what? Why?"

"Look, Toots: you need to grab this situation head-on. By the horns. And start steering, yourself. Be an 'actor,' _not_ a _re_-actor! Stop reacting to things that happen and start making things happen for yourself. And ya gotta cancel the whole pity party vibe. You want him to want you? Or do you just want him to pity you?"

"I…I…don't…"

"That's your problem right there, Sugar-no-Spice," the cigarette stabbed at her: "ya _don't!_"

The hairbrush came down on the dresser and she folded her hands in her lap. "I…can't…"

Her visitor took another pull on her cigarette and blew twin streams through her nostrils. "You mean, you _won't_."

"I'm paralyzed."

"Just your legs, dummy." Adrena reached down with her free hand and scooped her own legs up, curling her arm to trap their movement. "There's a good sixty per cent of ya that's still fully functional—working parts, sensitive nerve endings—all the _good_ stuff. And there are ways to use your legs even if you can't—" She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. "Look, I can teach you some things that will make you more than competition for the bimbo ballerinas in this place. More importantly, I can kick your tingly numb ass when you start getting all 'woe is me, I is not a real woman' crap! This guy, Stoppable: he may be a knight in shining armor for the damsels in distress but I know something about this guy. He likes 'em feisty! Lookit Possible. Lookit She-slut. I even heard he got hitched to some badass ninja babe before she got croaked. I used to say 'freeeakky' but ole Mr. Pants-fall-down really likes 'em freaky!"

Tara spun her wheelchair around. "So what's in it for you?"

The other woman took one last drag from her cigarette and then stubbed it out in the palm of her other hand. "I need a place to crash for awhile."

**RSVP**

"Don'cha remember what it was like? Bein' sixteen and wantin' to be grown up already?"

Ron pointed to himself and said: "Remember who you're talking to: never be normal?"

"Yeah?" Joss answered, gesturing to her lush, adult body, "Well, what would you call this?"

Ron considered the rollercoaster curves on display in the tailored sleeveless blouse and white hip-huggers sitting on the futon in Joss's room.

"I'd call it a wonderful promise of the adulthood ahead of you, Joss," he answered finally. "Most girl's your age struggle with self-esteem and body images that make them insecure and can rob them of the joys of this time in their lives. You won't have that." He took a deep breath. "Some girls your age mature early and it can ruin their lives. Beautiful people are treated differently than the rest of us and, if it comes at too early an age, you can be seduced by the easy path: people will do for you and open doors for you and give you things and most of your relationships will be based on how you look rather than who you are. And there will come a day when that beauty isn't enough…or it starts to fade…or someone more beautiful comes along…and there's nothing to fall back on because beauty was a crutch and, when it's taken away, you can no longer walk. Girls who spend those formative years coasting on their looks don't acquire the skills they need for the long haul, the tough times, the deeper purposes."

"Ah'm not thet way!" Joss protested. "If'n you know me, ya know Ah'm not like thet!"

Ron nodded and smiled kindly. "I know you're not like that, Joss. You're not shallow and you've got mad skills that any other twenty-five year-old would be envious of." He got out of his chair and walked over to sit by the stunning woman. Taking her hands in his, he said, "But don't you see, kiddo? Going from sixteen to twenty-five in an instant is like taking a shortcut. A shortcut can be good in an emergency but you miss out on so much when you don't take the scenic route."

Joss shook her head. "Ah'm not sure yer analogy works for me."

With a start, Ron realized that the beautiful woman he was holding hands with was subtly caressing his fingers with hers, eliciting a small tingling sensation at the base of his spine. While he had been forcing himself to think of her as an underage teen girl, he was forcefully reminded that she moved him in ways that he had tried hard to not contemplate.

As a construct of the greatest parts of the Ron Prime's gestalt, ZRon was aware of the affection and respect that the fully integrated Ron Stoppable had felt for the niece of Anne Possible. Even as a flat-chested fourteen year-old, the feisty little redhead had burned like a bright flame, evincing an indomitable spirit and a reckless enthusiasm for adventure and life in general. Her developing hero-worship for her cousin's sidekick might be easily dismissed as a young girl's first crush, but it hadn't diminished over the past couple of years and it was hard to not be flattered by her consistent (if not increasing) devotion to All Things Stoppable.

Still, Ron hadn't really given into any romantic thoughts or fancies for the younger girl. Back then his eyes were turned to Kim Possible, even before he moved from the "Best Friend" to the "Boyfriend" category. And back then, it would have felt too much like "robbing the cradle."

Two years could make a lot of difference. On the other hand, Ron had gone through a lifetime of experience this past year, including marriage, impending fatherhood, and gut-wrenching loss. The idea of dating a sixteen-year-old was even more unthinkable than any romantic attachments to a fourteen year-old back when he was still in high school.

Wasn't it?

Still, it was getting harder and harder to see the teenage girl inside the body of a twenty-five year-old woman. Maybe because Joss had steadily acquired an uncommon maturity for her age…or maybe it was just because the twenty-five year-old body was so damn distracting!

He tried to clear his suddenly dry throat. "Joss…Jocelyn…everybody should enjoy their last few years of adolescence before they take on the cares and responsibilities of being an adult. You're missing out on the best years of high school! Your Junior and Senior proms! Dating boys your age!" As soon as he said these last words her expression suggested that it was a mistake but he plowed on. "Graduation. College. The company of peers—people your own age, with the same interests…"

She snorted. "Ah knows what peers means. Y'all treat me like ah don't know nothin'! Is it the way ah talk? Shucks! Ah kin speak regular if'n ah have ta." Changing her voice and inflection a little, she said: "Would it be more helpful if I were to drop my country accent and change my methodology in conversation so as to appear more sophisticated than the folks back home? I was given the distinct impression that others would come to appreciate my cultural differences as unique aspects of the region in which I was birthed and raised." She folded her arms in front of her chest and huffed: "Ah kin even talk more snooty if thet's what you'd like."

"But that's my point, exactly," he said, unsure of what to do with his hands now that she had released them. "We all want you to be who you are…"

"Whom," she corrected.

He grinned. "Whom," he agreed. "But we want you to be the Joss you are supposed to be now. Not the Joss you'll be in nine years or so."

She stared at the floor and her eyes began to leak like water rivulets of a sparse shower on a windowpane. "It ain't fair," she whispered. First, Ahm too young and Cousin Kim's in the way. Now you're famous and kin have any woman you want but Ahm too old!"

"It—it's not that…" he stuttered.

"Then what is it? Ya don't like me?"

He shook his head. "Oh, Joss; I like you very much."

She leaned toward him and looked into his eyes and then jerked her head back. "What? Yer afraid Ah want love? Deep and abiding and eternal? Is thet what's a scairin' ya? Why cain't we jus' have a little fun together an' see where it leads? Maybe Ah'll be sick of ya in just a couple a dates? Isn't thet what two people who like each other are supposed ta do? Have some fun? Get ta know each other a little better? Am ah too intense for ya? Cause Ah know it ain't the age thing. I heard what you said to Aunt Anne. I mean, Ah already knew about the law—don'cha think Ah checked that stuff out a long time ago? But now Ah know that you know." She reached up and suddenly a couple of buttons were undone. "So what's the problem?"

ZRon glanced at the creamy tops of Jocelyn's breasts bulging out of the top of her blouse like twin vanilla muffins dusted with cinnamon, and forced himself to look away.

"Um…it's complicated?" he squeaked.

"Are you sayin' all them other girls is better'n me?"

"Uh…no?"

**RSVP**

Felix rolled around the bR'kun in his chair and did his own examination, now. His expression was only slightly more unreadable than Dede's, who watched from a shadowy corner behind the other Middleton girls.

"You say these things are like sentinels?" he asked the alien woman. "If their makers are gone, then who or what do they report to?"

"We don't know. The Uptopian scientists continue to debate whether they upload data to a cold, dead machine on a lifeless world billions of light years away…or are just doomed to remain on standby status for all eternity, waiting for their makers' commands that will never come now."

"So…is it a threat? To us? I mean beyond Study Hall?" he added with a smirk.

"I do not think so. On most worlds they remain inactive unless a planetary threat is involved."

"Then what clicked him over from Barkin mode to bR'kun status?" Felix continued.

Captain Shaula Lesath finally had an answer for his questions: "The arrival of the Lowardian battle cruiser."

"So can we use it?" the grieving boy wanted to know. "As a weapon against those green bastards?"

"I don't know."

Shego frowned: the blue woman didn't seem to know much. "Then why didn't he 'activate' when the Lowardians visited the last time?"

Shaula was back to shrugging. "Because he's broken?"

"OMG," Bonnie whispered from the back of the pack, "Miss Go broke Stevie!"

Shego scowled. "I heard that!"

The impending scuffle was deferred as Monique burst into the room. "Guys! Guys! Ron's locked in the Possible apartment with Joss and they won't answer the door or come out!"

The room couldn't have emptied faster if someone had pulled the fire alarm.

**RSVP**

The click of the door being unlocked seem unnaturally loud. Perhaps it was because everyone standing out in the hall had fallen silent for the past twenty minutes or so as a series of bumps, thumpings, and muffled groans could be heard issuing from inside the Possible apartment.

The door slowly opened inward and, after a moment, Ron Stoppable emerged from the murky interior. His hair was a mess and his rumpled shirt was badly tucked into his jeans that somehow seemed a little twisted on his body. He had a reddish smear across his face from his mouth across his cheek and down to his jaw—though whether this was the aftermath of blood or lipstick, it was hard to tell.

He tossed the rejuvenator to Anne as he began limping down the hall, past the line of silent women with varying expressions on their countenances. "We compromised," he mumbled. "She's sixteen but de-aged to seventeen. I though a year wouldn't make that much difference but—boy howdy—I guess you never can predict when the hormones are gonna kick in."

Joss came to the door a moment later. Parts of her hair were standing straight up and her blouse had lost several buttons so she clutched the gap with one hand. Looking at the expressions on the other women, she said: "What? We couldn't agree on how many years to take off so we rassled for it. I should've gotten two more years but he cheated with thet monkey thing he kin do!"

**RSVP**

Frugal Lucre knelt before the Fist of Mastermind and quaked.

Even though Kim's Cousin Larry was without the benefits of the computer-enhanced effects that Kim's consigliore used to terrorize criminals over the Dark Web, the hood and cowl that he presently wore altered his voice electronically to more intimidating levels and harmonics and his reputation for ruthlessness had spread quickly.

"But my Lord Fist," the petty thief gasped. "It goes against my nature! Right down to the very DNA of my genetics!"

"_Cease your prattling excuses, Francis!"_ The booming voice echoed off the cavernous walls of the new Mastermind's Operations Center and silenced the sniveling crook immediately. _"Your only real value to Mastermind's operations is your knowledge of the financial profit systems of Big Business and Wall Street…"_

"Which I've always used to rip off Big Business and Wall Street, as well as their customers—albeit in tiny but massively accumulating doses!" Francis Lurman aka Frugal Lucre wailed.

"_And now Mastermind wishes these techniques applied to the system to tweak it so that businesses, customers, and employees are beneficiaries of the capitalist system,"_ the fearsome voice decreed.

Lurman blinked. "You mean you want to use the customer base to crash the system?"

"_No."_

Francis was struggling to understand the intended endgame. "You plan to break the unions?"

"_No! We want the employees fairly compensated for their work and talents. And if we can bypass the unions, so much the better! If any credit is to be given, it belongs to Mastermind!"_

"Sooooo…" the petty thief tried again, "…you intend to bankrupt the owners?"

"_Not at all! If the owners fail, the business fails. If the business fails, the customers lose. And, of course, their employees are out of a job."_ Fist of Mastermind folded his xgauntleted arms across his chest. _"On the other hand, it will not hurt some of the wealthy to learn to make due with only four mansions around the world instead of seven. Or for the utterly corrupt to be undone through their own greed!"_

Frugal Lucre was confused. "It sounds like you're asking for a Win-Win-Win scenario. How does this constitute a crime or serve Dark Kim's Evil Empire?"

Fist of Mastermind leaned over the cowering minion and almost—but not quite—sounded like Dark Kim's cousin, Larry Possible.

"_That's for her to know and you to find out…"_

**RSVP**

As the day progressed, a deeper pall settled over the warehouse.

Baths and showers were taken. Hair and clothes attended to. And, one-by-one, the occupants descended to the lobby where they prepared to depart for the final memorial service, honoring Tim Possible.

The other funerals had been held over the past three days and all that was left now was a ceremonial goodbye for the last of their fallen…

And a graveside service for a body that didn't even exist.

Adrena Lynn had no ties here so she had chosen to remain behind. Likewise the Rockwaller sisters, Connie and Lonnie. Lynn wondered if they might be exploitable as allies or, at the very least, tools. She shook her head after a moment: the striking blonde and brunette seemed a little too vapid and self-centered to be reliable as either.

She then gazed through the window as Stoppable scooped Tara King out of her wheelchair and gently placed her in the back of one of the limos he had chartered for the group. The crippled girl was probably too 'nice' to exploit the occasion by using some of the strategies that the extreme sports star had tried to teach her. But any occasion where the guy of her dreams had his hands all over her instead of any of the other competition, was certainly a win for her long-game.

She shook her head again. Why was she helping the blonde cupcake again? Oh yeah: a place to crash. And undercutting She-bitch in the competition. She frowned slightly. It felt like there might be another reason as well…

She shrugged after a moment. Maybe it would come to her in the steam room…which she would have all to herself for the next couple of hours. As the limos outside pulled away from the curb, Adrena Lynn turned and began to hum as she made her way to the stairs.

**RSVP**

Both Kim's brooded during the long drive to the cemetery in a separate limo.

Dark Kim, the "New & Improved" Mastermind, Empress of a burgeoning Evil Empire, wrestled over her feelings toward her former best friend, former boyfriend (former fiancé!) and the role she could make him play in her plans for world domination.

Destroy him?

Make him her captive?

Seduce him to the Dark Side?

As appealing as that last option might be, a warehouse filled with aggressive and attractive feminine competition made its success far more questionable…

…unless something was to happen to each of those distractions…

Down deep inside, the real Kim (the Yin to Dark Kim's Yang) was fighting the influence of the Anubis spirit that had been unleashed from Jackie Oakes enchanted talisman when Electronique had unleashed her electrical bolts during the original Mastermind's transformation ceremony.

Although its dark, mystic energies were supposed to take over Kim Possible's mind and body, the unexpected flash of power meant to fry the chip embedded in her forehead had done one thing right: Kim _was_ possessed by the spirit of the Egyptian god of the underworld…but it was an imperfect possession thanks to the disruption occurring at the crucial moment.

Dark Kim was ascendant…

…but Light Kim still existed down deep inside, struggling to take back her mind, her body and her will.

**RSVP**

Most of the work had been completed on the warehouse. The vast army of workers had decamped after transforming the restaurant area into a first class dining establishment. The mini-mall area had been completed with a warren of empty offices and shop spaces. The apartments were complete and fully habitable. The basement and sub basements were finished out and the gym, pool, saunas, workshops, storerooms and motor pool were finished, equipped, stocked and ready for full-time use. The security upgrades were completed, for the most part, and only a couple of craftsmen, an electrician, and a plumber were still on-site for the final tweaks.

So it was inevitable that someone would leave a door open.

Connie and Lonnie looked up from the bar where they had been sampling the more accessible bottles from the wine cellar.

"Hey, sorry miss," Connie called out to the stranger who had just slipped in through the restaurant's main entrance. "We're not open for business, yet. Come back in a week or so."

"What is that?" Lonnie screeched. "You can't bring _that_ in here! This is a _restaurant!_"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE:<strong>** Robots and Aliens and Clones—Oh My! It's a riff on the old Wizard of Oz catchphrase: "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!" And since this chapter has Robots and Aliens and Clones…**

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><p><strong>AN 2: ****_Well boys and girls, if you've been paying attention to the clues, you probably have an idea of what's going to happen in the next chapter. But if you want me to prioritize my writing schedule, then cross my palms with reviews. ;-)_**

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><p><strong>AN 3:_ BTW, there's been some chatter concerning the idea that the clones make more Rons available to his feminine admirers. If so, who should the original Ron end up with and who should get a clone? Just wonderin'._**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 44<strong>

_CajunBear73 __chapter 44 .__ 12/__30/2014_

Boy howdy, indeed. She may have lost to some monkey cheatin' on ZRon's part, but she's got a lot to look forward to, regardless of snaring Ron or not...That wrassle should have been PPV...I bet that girl's a Wildcat!

_**Who knows, maybe I'll deliver that particular scene to the RSVP IV section someday…  
><strong>_  
>Some women planning on so many things, all surrounding Ron, and before long a day of reckoning will come about, especially with Ron 'forgot'.<p>

_**Some reckoning coming up in the next chapter, I think…**_

Still curious about Lynn's presence onsite and not an outcry about snagging her for GJ, but will her plans for Tara be reminiscent of that 'Bad Girl' scene in "Grease"?...

_**Hmmmm…Adrena as Rizzo to Tara as Sandy…**_

Now to see what our 'Barkin' was really supposed to be about, and why 'he' ended up in Middleton.

And what else you have in store for us.

CB73

_**Hey, CB, a little more added to the chapter since your review but it looks like your questions will go unanswered just a little while longer. R~13 (But they will be answered…oh yesssss…)**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox <em>_chapter 44 .__ 12/__30/2014_

Another interesting chapter.

_**Ahem: "partial" chapter at the time you reviewed…**_

So there's no Steve Barkin, but a robot. How disappointing. Along with Paul Lassiter and his family, David Puddy and his family were another one of my favorites from Kim Possible.

_**Well, Patrick Warburton (Puddy, Brock Samson) did play Hymie the Robot in the **_**Get Smart**_** movie…**__**  
><strong>_  
>I don't think that Zorpox is going to do the horizontal polka with Joss. Now's not the time to be thinking about that. There's lots of other things that need to be addressed. Yes, I know that they didn't. But I think Zorpox might have stressed as to why things are complicated or had someone who could help.<p>

_**Hey, ZRon is juggling as best he can!**_

From last time:  
>The Zombies, you know "She's Not There", "Tell Her No", "Time of the Season".<p>

_**I'm sorry to say that I am old enough to remember all of their hits when they first came out!**_

The booing, reminds me of the episode of SpongeBob, where he and Patrick are painting Mr. Krabs' house, and get paint on his 1st dollar. After several botched attempts to fix it. SpongeBob puts a bunch of paintings there. Then hangs himself over it. Mr. Krabs' asks what are he's doing, to which SpongeBob replies that he's just hanging around. In the background we see Patrick yelling "Boo!" and giving a thumb's down.

_**Quite a generational jump: from The Zombies to Spongebob!**_

Keep up the good work.

_**What? No reference to The Stig in this review? Maybe it's only an "unfinished review" just like it was an "unfinished chapter" when you posted. ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>Uberscribbler chapter 44 . 124/15_

ENOUGH! I can deal...almost...with the bevy of ladies, the horrible advice about how to catch Ron, the grinding insanity of Dark!Kim...I can even take the ongoing ambiguity about ZRon's ultimate intentions...

_**Really? Then there's really no need for me to restrain myself further... ;-)**_

BUT I cannot take another godsbedamned ROBOT coming around and conveniently explaining so much of his completely-unacceptable behavior! Its just...just...just...

Its pretty smart actually. And a darned unexpected flip as well.

I JUST CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE OF THESE CRAZY PLOT TWISTS AND CHARACTER FLIPS! Its to the point we need a flowchart to understand the intricacies of this ever-dynamic epic. I'm confused, over and over, by who's who and what they're doing.

_**Oh, what a WONDERFUL idea! I really need one now and I'm sure the readers will appreciate one, too! HEY EVERYBODY! UBERSCRIBBLER'S GONNA MAKE US A FLOW CHART TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THE PLOTLINES! Be sure and post the URL when you're done... (Smiles sweetly and bats eyelashes innocently)**_

Just how much longer before book 2 finishes and book 3 start? I don't think there's enough Xanax on the planet to keep up with the anxiety levels the author invokes. WHY I keep returning - beyond the first-rate writing, endless comedy, biting irony, and pitch-perfect characterization across the board - I'll never know!

_**Ah, Ubie; I slowed things down in posting this chapter and put it out in pieces just so you wouldn't be overwhelmed all at once. (That's right, folks: I'm making Uberscribbler the reason I was so slow in posting this time...it's always good when you can make a reader take the blame for your own lack of discipline!)**_

_**But, fear not: if I can kill off enough characters in the next two or three chapters, we'll be ready to start Part III! Yea! And then I can finish this off and retire from fanfiction forever! R~13**_

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><p><em>Guest chapter 44 . 124/15_

"Some say that his breath smells of magnesium, and that he's scared of bells. All we know is he's called the Stig." Is that better. Although with the Booyah reference, I would've gone with: RIP to the late great Stuart Scott. So only 1/2 a chapter. Hmm, oh well. the Dark Side. Sounds a little like Star Wars. RIP Tim, and possibly to Connie and Lonnie iff they wind up deceased.

_**Foxy, is that you?**_

I'm not old enough either to remember the Zombies either, but each of the songs have been covered by other bands, and Time of the Season as popped up in movies "The Conjuring", "Riding the Bullet", "Awakenings"; TV ads (Sprite), and TV shows (Will and Grace); Never watched the entire Get Smart movie. Steve Carrell makes for a good 86, but Anne Hathaway is no 99. I've always liked Barbara Feldon better. Bernie Kopell was my favorite KAOS agent, always respectful of his adversaries. As I said, I liked David Puddy and his family (Hymie, the Tick, Mr. B, Kronk, Agent T, Joe Swanson etc.)

_**But I DO remember The Zombies...and The Kinks...and The Turtles...and even the original Get Smart even before it went into reruns! My varicose veins are so bad that I have to screw on my socks and my crowsfeet have turned into a bird stampede! R~13**_


	45. Grave Matters

**ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!**

I have a question for my readers before I finish and post Chapter 46!

And I really need a answer (reviews or PMs) before I throw the next pitch over the plate.

**Do I REALLY NEED TO POST ALERTS OR WARNINGS AT HE BEGINNINGS OF CHAPTERS THAT MAY CONTAIN A LEMON? **

**OR VIOLENCE? **

**OR EVEN A CHARACTER DEATH?**

**I mean: ANY MORE?**

Oh, I get the necessity of maybe doing it in the very beginning when readers still don't know what to expect and some subject matter might be less acceptable to some folk here.

But real books and stories never stop in the middle of the tale and warn you that the young lovers will be removing their clothes in the next chapter or that a beloved character is about to die.

Such would break the power of the story to immerse you in it's own reality.

It would be like those annoying people in the movie theater who tell you what's going to happen next before it actually happens. Why can't ISIS take those people hostage?

Anyway, here's my point: I've published over 508,000 words of the RSVP Saga, so far-well over 5 complete novels as bound books go.

Unless you skipped a bunch of chapters in getting here, you've seen blood, sex, death, loss, and I just don't feel like I should have to wave a red flag anymore to warn my readers that the chapter might have something "M" rated in this "M" rated series.

Now when I start RSVP III _soon...or sometime next year (up to you),_ I will warn potentially new readers who stumble across the opening chapters of third installment as to what they may be getting themselves in for. The way the new stories and updates rise to the top of the slush pile means new readers find those stories before they're aware of the preceding material. So they'll be innocent lambs, reading along like sheep to the slaughter. So...warnings and disclaimers the first few chapters...

But here, 500,000+ words in, do you really need...or even want...me to put out the road flares or wave the red and yellow flags before certain chapters?

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><p><strong>AuthorsNotes: ****_I'm a little surprised that no one has responded to my query as to who should end up with the Ron-clones as a consolation prize…but then reviews have been a little thin of late and I'm starting to think I'm just writing for the same four people. If you're reading and enjoying, please drop an occasional review. You don't have to say nice things—just look at my Rommel enthusiast… ;-)_**

**_Seriously, though: it helps stimulate the creative juices. More stimulation, more creativity. Less stimulation…zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…_**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> You know the drill: Character names & original series concepts by Disney; RSVP chapters denoted as fan fiction and enjoy no remuneration beyond reader reviews (and sometimes not even those…)

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><p><strong>Chapter 45 – Grave Matters<strong>

Hirotaka braced himself as the first of the three parachutists landed on the aft deck of Señor Senior Senior's yacht. The intruder, a well built black man with a shaved head and partial beard, was clearly a combat veteran. He wore a blue, special ops bodysuit with a gold utility harness and yellow boots and gauntlets. The letters "T.I." were embroidered on a patch over his left pectoral. Two more men, similarly attired, landed on the deck behind him. The others were white but seemed to have been stamped from the same, body-builder mold, one with close cropped red hair, the other a brunet with a shaggier style.

The black man thrust his hand at Hirotaka.

"My name is Dash Damont," he said, offering to shake the astonished ninja's hand. "And these are my teammates, Burn Burnam and Crash Cranston."

"Together we're Team Impossible!" the redhead added in an obviously rehearsed tone.

The guy with the shaggy brown hair rolled his eyes and said: "We understand you've got a baby on board…"

**RSVP**

Vivian Porter was torn: she felt as if she should be at the cemetery with the others, paying her respects to the recently fallen. But she had never heard of the redheaded cheerleader named Liz, Justine Flanner had only been a name to her, the Possible boy a mere footnote to her brief acquaintance with Kim Possible, and Dr. Renton…well…she had been a colleague of sorts. An unfriendly colleague among those who had seemed to judge her and act dismissively of her works in robotics because of her looks.

Not that that would have stopped her from paying her respects but it did seem to fall lower on the present list of priorities given the current circumstances.

Even if there hadn't been any further incidents over the past few days, the fact remained that a hostile race of aliens had sent another starship to their planet and had attacked and aggressively stolen vital and dangerous technology while killing three members of Ron Stoppable's—what? Family? Tribe? "Friends" seemed too trite a word for the coalition that had formed around the former partner of Kim Possible…

There was serious work to be done in the face of this current threat and she knew that Felix Renton would be here, right now, laboring over their next weapon design if it weren't his mother's and his girlfriend's graves that they would be visiting, too.

Vivian, on the other hand, had no close ties to the deceased, so she could best serve the living—as well as the memory of the fallen—by working on both offensive and defensive technologies to counter whatever the Lowardians might do next.

But to her embarrassment, she also had to acknowledge down deep inside, that it was also the one thing she could do to prove her worth to Ron Stoppable.

Her beauty had proven a two-edged sword all of her life. That and her grandfather's money.

The same beauty that had undermined her credibility as a scientist had also made many of the men who crossed paths with her malleable and easy to manipulate. If Vivian had been the sort of woman to freely exploit those advantages then she would have been truly dangerous. Rather, she held her advantage in physical attractiveness in contempt, preferring the company of men who were more interested in her mind than her body.

Unfortunately, she had yet to find one.

Oddly, Ron Stoppable seemed to be nearly her ideal in that category. Unfortunately, he did value her intellect but was not particularly "in love" with it. And, as for her "smokin' hot bod and gorgeous face? She had only caught him sneaking a look at her maybe once or twice and his reactions were truly mysterious. He would shake his head a little and cryptically mutter something about how it went against "The Rules."

Whatever "The Rules" were…

Bottom line: her looks didn't seem to give her any advantages with him. Dammit.

Maybe it was the fact that he was surrounded by a bevy of beauties and she was just getting lost in the crowd.

Maybe.

Though she had the distinct feeling that even stranded together, alone, on a deserted island, he would still be nothing but respectful…and totally oblivious to her feminine charms.

So, she needed to approach the problem logically, setting emotion aside for the moment. And stifled a geeky laugh: applying logic—like some kind of Occam's Razor approach—in order to tap emotions in another that you wished to harness for yourself. It seemed an unlikely approach for achieving something so diametrically opposite of the technique's emotionless purity…

Still as she set about her labs and workplace areas, organizing, cleaning, prepping the equipment and project subsets, she knew that she needed to clear her own mind in much the same way she was setting Team Stoppable-Porter's R & D department in order. An hour or so of work right now would yield multiple hours of efficiency once Felix Renton, Wade Load, and Jim Possible returned and decided that they were ready to work, again. Maybe, Ron himself might come up to provide some of those rumored Zorpoxian insights from his time as a blue-hued super-villain, out to conquer an entire planet so that he could totally control the world's supply of Mexican food…

She shook her head and smiled warmly: give a man the power to rule the world and did he seek women? Wealth? The subjugation of others?

No.

He wanted the world's supply of Nacos!

She paused in aligning the molecular transducer. Maybe she should be working on her cooking skills…

"The way to a man's heart," she murmured as she dropped a stack of heavy books back on the file cabinet with a thump.

The thump echoed from the next lab.

Again.

And another muffled thump followed a few moments later.

She thought she was alone but now it was clear that something was moving behind the closed door.

Reaching for the closest weapon at hand, a heavy steel spanner, Vivian tiptoed up to door and eased it open, hoping to God that she would not find a 10-foot green alien killing machine in the next room.

It was worse.

So much worse!

**RSVP**

Falsetto Jones grimaced as the caravan of Humvees hit another series of jarring bumps as they traversed the dry lakebed.

_Yes, he was a diamond thief! Yes, diamonds were his specialty!_ The Fist of Mastermind—the NEW Mastermind, he reminded himself—had run down the plan, the cowled and masked enforcer had been relentless about those aspects of the small, black man's resume.

But he was a "gentleman burglar" specializing in heists and elegant, inside jobs. American and Europe were his areas of operation, moving in the high society, upper crust social circles where he scoped out his next mark and assessed their gems and jewelry at the opera, a ball, a swank society function!

Traveling to the war-torn regions of Africa to hijack shipments from armies and warlords trafficking in "Blood" diamonds was a job more suited to thugs and well-armed mercenaries than a snappy dresser who bred Lithuanian Wolfhounds!

"Diamonds are diamonds!" he had told The Fist. "What does it matter where they come from?"

"It must be Blood Diamonds," the creepy voice had answered in reply.

"There is a warehouse in Amsterdam," he had argued, his high, feminine voice no match for the ominous, electronically altered commands from the consigliore for the growing Dark Kim Empire.

"But if they don't kill me and I actually pull this off, they'll just send an army of assassins after me—after us!"

Fist of Mastermind raised a gauntleted hand and pointed down at Falsetto Jones. "They can only hire assassins if they have the funding to pay them. Clean them out and the blood diamond trade will wither and die with no hope of regaining it's momentum before we swoop in and privatize the mines. Now go! Break the shackles of the slaves who labor beneath the earth for monsters in human form. Free the children from the arms of tyrants so that they may return to the embrace of their mothers and their homes and villages."

Falsetto Jones left the meeting with a scowl and was still scowling a fortnight later when he boarded a cargo plane with a specially trained pack of wolfhounds and a small army of mercenaries. Now he was almost home and still scowling—the operation had turned into a bloodbath and his "crew" was down to a quarter of its original numbers—but his anger had begun to puzzle out a strange pattern to the series of crimes that their new Mastermind seemed to be requiring of her minions.

In gaining the capital value of a huge diamond heist, the Dark Kim Empire now had vast monetary resources added to its growing coffers. At the same time, they had just made the world a better place by ruining the criminal enterprises of a dozen brutal regimes. It was as if the crimes they were committing were wiping out other criminal endeavors…on purpose.

Falsetto shook his head. Coincidence, no doubt. The mafia had a long history of rival families and gangs trying to take each other out for a bigger share of the "territory". This just happened to be a coincidence.

Right?

As they reached the cargo plane, the diminutive man swung out of the lead Hummer and directed the trucks carrying the precious payload into the hold first. The propellers were already spinning in anticipation of a quick getaway.

As he made to secure the vehicles, the transport began to move!

"Hey! What are you doing he screeched.

The remaining mercs piled out of their vehicles outside and began running after the plane as it began to pick up speed.

A half dozen or so scrambled aboard before the aft cargo door pulled up on its hydraulic lifts. Then the aircraft was leaving the ground and the rest of the convoy behind.

Jones didn't wait for the hired muscle, starting for the cockpit as best he could as the plane began to climb more steeply. Before he was halfway there, however, the bulkhead door swung open giving him a brief glimpse of his new pilot.

A woman was flying the plane.

This wouldn't have been so remarkable except that his pilot's name was Cliff. And Cliff, you know, was a dude.

But even more remarkable than the gender switch was the pilot's flight-suit which consisted of a white, off the shoulder, classical Greek-style shift. Sandals encompassed her dainty feet and a golden belt and sword scabbard encircled her tiny waist. Her long, chestnut hair was gathered into a cascade that fell from the back of her head. And it appeared that she was piloting…while blindfolded?

Any further details were obscured by the appearance of a square-jawed, athletic man wearing black robes and a white powdered wig, old English-style.

"Who are you?" Jones demanded.

"The Judge," the man replied in a voice that was vaguely familiar. "And court is in session!"

"Uh—what?" was all he had time to say before the stranger continued.

"Falsetto Jones! I find you and your gang guilty of Transporting Stolen Goods across International Borders! Sentencing to commence…immediately!" he thundered.

"Wait…what?" And that's when Jones noticed The Judge's gavel. Only it wasn't the typical, courtroom-sized desk-banger. This one had a two and a half foot handle for a two-handed grip and a mallet head the size of an economy-sized coffee can.

And the last thing Jones remembered seeing was said gavel swinging at his head until he woke up in custody ten hours later.

**RSVP**

After settling in to his new Global Justice apartment, he took a quick shower and tried on his new Global Justice uniform. The name patch over his left breast pocket read: Ron I. He sighed and wondered if the others had been issued similar quarters, uniforms, and monikers.

At least it didn't say "Ron Clone #1" he mused.

There was a knock at the door and it opened almost before he could say "come in."

A very familiar redhead practically bounced into the room. "Ron!" she practically squealed with a huge grin.

"K.P." he practically shouted right back at her as they ran into each other's arms.

After a deep and soul-satisfying hug he backed up and held her at arms length. "I can't believe you've come to see me!"

She slapped him on the arm playfully. "Why wouldn't I come to see you?" she asked. "After all, you are my boyfriend."

He let go and took another step back, the joy starting to ease out of his face. "Don't you mean the clone of your boyfriend?" He almost added one of many but the words he had spoken were already too painful and he drooped a little.

She moved toward him and grasped his hands in hers. "Well, about that…" she said, leading him to his bunk where she could sit beside him. "There are some things you may not know…"

**RSVP**

Dede was splayed on top of the lab table in the next room, utterly naked and demonstrating just how lifelike (_and exceptional!_) her pseudo flesh really was.

Leaning over her…nether…region was the hulking figure of the alien robot that the Uptopian had identified as a bR'kun.

And, although the synthetic construct that most Middleton High students would identify as Steve Barkin, was fully clothed, he seemed to be pounding away on the lush and lovely fembot with a repetitive, if not rhythmic, pattern of upper body thrusts.

"Harder!" Dede grunted, urging him onward. "It must go in deeper!"

The bR'kun spoke for the first time in Vivian's hearing: "I risk damaging your pelvic nexus if I bring any more force to bear. Are you certain that your measurements are correct?"

"I would like it to be tight," Dede answered. "And my calculations require a certain amount of force to secure the new equipment into a locked position."

Vivian Porter kicked the door open and stood in the threshold with her hands on her own shapely hips. "Just what is going on in here?" she demanded in an almost shrill tone.

Dede looked at the red-aced roboticist with an almost indolent expression. "I told you, Doctor, that I required assistance upgrading my…functionality. Since you declined, I have secured another set of hands.

Vivian looked back at the other "set of hands" with an accusatory glare but had to admit that the "boy robot" didn't seem to evince the least bit of unprofessional interest in the "girl robot."

"What-evs!" she snapped and turned on her heel.

Beating a hasty retreat, she all but ran out of the lab area as the bR'kun shook his beefy head. "This unit does not comprehend. The equipment that we are attempting to install serves no logical purpose other than to complete the illusion that you are a human being. But you are not a human being. You are an artificial construct. You are not, by definition, alive."

"Says _whoooooo!_ Right there! We're almost…" Dede shook her head. "Ron Stoppable treats Dede—treats me—as if I am _human_. As if _I_ am alive. And that is better than any science book or dictiona—_there!_ I'm locked and in position. All I need now is to reboot and calibrate certain subroutines."

"Do you require assistance with the testing phase?" the big bot asked.

Dede leaned back and gave him The Look. "Absolutely not," she qualified. "What sort of an android do you think I am? Get out."

**RSVP**

Ron II retuned from his visit to the Global Justice mess hall in a bit of a funk. Even though he understood the explanation that their training sessions would involve social isolation and separate learning tracks, he had hoped to run into his other selves during meal times.

Those hopes were now also dashed.

Entering his GJ apartment he instantly went on the alert: someone else was in his sleeping quarters.

Easing to the inner door's edge, he slipped his arm around and flipped on the light.

And found his mood starting to improve.

"Hey stud-muffin, what took you so long?" the intruder asked.

Ron clone Number Two gaped at an obviously naked Bonnie Rockwaller occupying his rumpled bunk.

**RSVP**

Anne Possible felt terrible.

The memorial service that was intended to comfort all who were mourning the loss of Timothy Possible—her other son!—just magnified her loss in reminding her that she had also lost a husband all over again.

Worse: Kim had come and, although she was better than that creepy synthodrone that had accompanied her to the service for Ron's parents, there was still this weird and almost hostile vibe that seemed to roll off of her in waves.

This was not the daughter she knew. But then she had to admit that she, herself, was not exactly the mother that Kim had known, either.

It was almost as if Kim was taking Anne's age regression personally. Just like she was really angry at Ron for his amnesia and the Stoppable synthodrone attack—neither of which were his fault, either.

Ah, but there was a little spark of guilt down in Anne's heart if she could be honest with herself.

The attraction that she had felt for her daughter's former boyfriend.

Even if she had not…technically…acted upon it, there were still those thoughts—and the burning disappointment as he had shot down her hopes of any lines being crossed in the future.

As if her daughter could read her mind, Kim sidled up to her now as she stood before the empty grave, her head bowed, and wrestling with a welter of emotions.

"Are you fucking him?"

Anne's head shot up as if her hand had touched a live wire. Her head swiveled and she stared at her daughter with a look of stunned surprise. "What?" He face folded down into an angry scowl. "What did you say to me, young lady?"

Kim held her mother's shocked and angry gaze. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mom. I forgot where I was. How about: are you _doing_ him? My boyfriend? My fiancé?"

"First of all, we are at a memorial service for your brother," Anne hissed in a low but menacing voice. "You will mind your tongue and observe some decorum for those present…or I will slap you silly. And second," she continued tightly, "no. There is nothing going on between myself and the young man that you are treating just as hatefully as your mother. Now I may have an obligation to try and understand what is wrong with you but keep it up, Kimmie, and you'll deserve any and every beat down that you get in return."

Kim smirked—an expression that was surprisingly chilling in her daughter's face. "Sorry, Mommy. The service is over, everyone else has drifted away, and Ron would never lay a finger on me, no matter what."

Anne moved this time, crowding into her daughter's personal space. "I wouldn't test his 'no matter what' if I were you, Sweetie. And if you keep playing passive-aggressive with your former boyfriend, the beat downs are going to come from the girls you should be worrying about, not your tired, old mother."

Kim opened her mouth, probably to snark about Anne's use of the word 'old,' when she was interrupted by a series of screams.

**RSVP**

"I don't like it!" Will Du fumed as Camille Leone brushed her teeth at his bathroom sink. It's like prostitution!" He hesitated and tried to catch her eye reflected in the bathroom mirror. "Pease isn't actually ordering you to prostitute yourself, is he?"

She seemed to take a little more time than necessary to rinse and spit. "Of course not, Baby," she told him as she placed her toothbrush in the rack, next to his. But I've got to play ball for now. If I do, your boss has promised to get my sentence commuted and my record wiped clean!" She turned and put her hands on his shoulders, leaning down to kiss him. "Then we can be together for reals without a prison term hanging over my head."

Du returned her kiss with marked enthusiasm and then murmured: "I'm off duty, now, C. How about—"

She shook her head. "Sorry Billy but I'm scheduled to meet with Ron 3 in ten minutes."

Stepping back, Camille morphed into the spitting image of Monique Johnson. "How do I look," she asked her uncomfortable boyfriend.

"You look just like that fashion-obsessed friend of his and Possible. But the voice needs a little work." He stroked his chin with his hand. "And don't forget to call him "Baby Boy" and talk a lot about wrestling. Primarily Steeltoe and Pain King…"

**RSVP**

Dr. Drakken—or Drew Lipsky, as he increasingly thought of himself—sat at a cobbled together console and studied the view being currently displayed on his monitor.

Nothing moved in his viewfinder.

He was tempted to steer the drone out into the open to gather more intel but the risks were too great: should anyone spot it, its stealth capabilities would be compromised and its very purpose neutralized.

No, he would wait.

Hadn't he—in a sense—waited for years? What matter a few hours, days, or even weeks, now?

Longer, if necessary.

_Eyes on the prize, Drew,_ he reminded himself.

Eyes on the prize…

**RSVP**

"Normally Team Impossible wouldn't take assignments from a known super villain," Dash Damont explained as Burn Burnam warmed a bottle of formula and Crash Cranston changed Yori's infant daughter's diaper.

"But we knew that Señor Senior, Senior was dying and his son was in jail so we were intrigued when he wired us a hundred thousand dollars and asked us to help you return Ron Stoppable's daughter to him. He also wired us the transponder frequency for this yacht and suggested that you might be under-supplied for a long voyage with a newborn baby."

Hirotaka nodded, still a bit in shock that Team Impossible was here to help him rather than fight him.

"Yeah," added Burn, carefully testing the temperature of the formula on his forearm, "but we were especially intrigued by his request that we protect you and the baby from Kim Possible. Want to fill us in?"

**RSVP**

Ron Stoppable (or, in this instance, ZRon) was standing apart from the others, taking in the various tableaus.

The memorial service for Anne Possible's son had been both beautiful and gut-wrenching.

For all or them.

It was a fresh reminder of the other funerals over the last few days.

And for the Possible women, another graveside service and empty coffin next to the one marking the space of their absent husband and father, as well.

Now the two redheads remained at the family plots while the others had drifted off to the other parts of the cemetery to pay their respects again.

The former Middleton High cheer squad had moved to the place where Liz had been laid to rest while Felix had been wheeled to the graves of his mother and Justine by Dr. Director.

Liz…

ZRon was a little intrigued by the core Ron's choice to refer to Elizabeth Director as "Liz" instead of "Betty" like everyone else. It suggested that his host was setting himself apart from the others when he spoke with her or called her by name. It was subtle, but there all the same. And having access to the original Stoppable memories and emotions, he knew that the former head of Global Justice had made an impression on him.

And what wasn't there for him to like? He knew that Ron was drawn to strong, capable women. Look at his history with Kim, with Yori. Even Shego. The Director woman was strong, athletic, smart, with the wisdom and maturity of a woman with the life experience of nearly four decades—even if she didn't look that old anymore. She had a body that, as the old saying went, would make a bishop kick a hole in a stained glass window.

ZRon suddenly felt himself blushing as a little extra blood flow found its way to his face…and another part of his anatomy, as well.

Looking away, he noticed Shego had drifted to another part of the cemetery as well and had seated herself on the ground, leaning back against a marble headstone.

Wonder what that's all about?

All in all, he couldn't wait to get back to the warehouse. Cemeteries didn't give him the creeps, per se, but he could see how upset the others were and knew that their emotional healing couldn't begin until they were back home and could establish some emotional equilibrium.

As for himself, he knew those who had passed but he didn't feel the same deep wound that Ron would. ZRon understood that he, himself, was more of the intellectual construct of core Ron's multiple aspects. But the emotional aspects, the "loving" Ron were still largely absent along with the greater amalgamation that was the "real" Ron Stoppable.

That didn't mean that he didn't care about these people: quite the contrary, he felt pledged to their overall health and defense. He felt sorrow for their—and his—loss.

But there was an intellectual distance, as well, as he, himself was incomplete.

He turned again as someone began to scream.

It took but a moment to locate the source: the cheerleaders were stumbling back from the Liz's grave.

A detached part of his mind thought that there would no longer be any problem keeping the two Lizs straight: Liz the Cheerleader and Liz the GJ agent. Then he realized that this thought might be a tad premature: the ground was erupting where her coffin had been lowered just two days before.

A hand thrust up out of the mound of fresh dirt.

A head emerged, its red hair turned nearly brunette from a liberal coating of earth and soil.

Some of the girls turned and ran while others seemed unable due to shock.

The thing that had been their friend and fellow cheerleader struggled to pull itself out of the ground and began to growl and snap its discolored mouth at those closest to it.

ZRon snapped out of his own numbed state and held out his hand for the Lotus Blade.

It did not come.

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE:<strong>** "Grave" Matters? I'm not going to insult you by even trying to explain the pun…**

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><p><strong>AN 2: ****_My apologies for any mistakes as I post this. Instead of sleeping I have been throwing this together at 3 a.m. and I have to get up at 5:30!_**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 45<strong>

_Uberscribbler chapter 45 . 2/2/2015_

I'm typing this review (the only one ff-dot-net allows) at 5:44am Eastern time. Review as follows:

DEDE WAS DOING WHAT?!

_**Um, getting help with the installation of her cybernetic lady-parts...**_

RON #1 WAS DOING WHAT!?

_**Er, having a conversation with someone who seemed to be Kim Possible...**_

RON #2 WAS DOING WHAT?!

_**Ah, having a visitation from someone who seemed to be Bonnie Rockwaller...**_

WHO...WHA...WHY...no, never mind that last one. You've made the "why" perfectly obvious.

_**I did? Darn...**_

And who or what the heck spooked Viv in her lab there? I'm sure its obvious and I'm missing it again, but figured I should ask.

_**Uh, I think she was pretty squicked out about Dede getting help with her upgrade to full functionality...**_

_**I mean, I was getting pretty squicked out just writing the scene. Maybe I'll rewrite the whole thing once I've had a couple of days to recover and think about "turning the dial up or down..." R~13**_

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><p><em>C1B12 chapter 45 . 22/15_

Great work! Love it and I think Bonnie should get a clone. Keep them coming and well done!

_**OK, I've got Bonnie down as having a shot with one of the clones. And thanks! R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 chapter 45 . 22/15_

Well, so many things going on right now, and all of them lead to further complications, don't they?

The Ron Clones seem to have a shapeshifter fulling someone's 'fantasies' if not R I-IV's...DeDe's ambitions don't seem to include bR'kun as her plans to become alive go further (loved her admonishment, though!)...the rescue of the littlest Stoppable is now underway, but questions remain to be answered, or asked...Not-so-Dark-Kim seems to be ingratiating herself with the competition, but may just receive the beatdown of her life if she continues down this path, especially with her Mom...New players introduce themselves to Falsetto Jones that may come into focus back in Middleton...Vivian seems to be considering so much to protect their 'family' and find a way to get noticed by Ron-ZRon, and ZRon seems to be 'lacking' as Zombie-Liz makes an appearance.

_**I couldn't have summed it up better, myself!**_

But where's Ron-Prime and when will he return? He's really needed right now and not just for the Zombie battle about to go down.

_**You're right! Ron Prime needs to return and we will be getting to that event shortly. And, when it does happen, it's a clear indicator that we're coming to the end of RSVP II..**_.

CB73  
>And as for review, or lack thereof, well we're here, but can't double-dip...LOL!<p>

_**Ah, I wasn't referring to you and my faithful reviewers. Just trying to stir the outliers out there and see if this bloated beast is worth continuing. R~13**_

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><p><em>the-ck chapter 45 . 22/15_

hey just found your story like 3 days ago, read all the way up from the beginning. And a few things caught my eye.

1. You mentioned some of the ladies getting with the clones. Aren't they underage? Not 100% sure on the age but they didn't have prom soo.

_**Hi CK, welcome aboard! As for the age issue, I think we established in the last chapter that the legal age of consent in Colorado is around 15 to 16 years of age. But more to the point, RSVP I started out during the summer after graduation, making the cheerleaders and Ron 17 to 18 years old. Nearly a year has passed since Ron went to Yamanouchi and married Yori so the graduating class would now be 18 and 19 years old, closing in on 20. **_

2. Do they have mystical monkey powers as well? Could explain the sword thing, and if so would they have to be taken care of?

_**Ah, the MMP question! We'll be exploring the MMP issue in the chapters ahead so I don't want to give too much. But, you're not wrong to raise the issue of the clones. And, to quote Star Wars: "There is another..."**_

3. Little late but still taking votes for the final five? If so I choose Shego, Yori, Ann (can't leave the mature woman out, Bonnie, And ether Vivian or Betty(can't choose)

_**Your votes are noted. We'll give Vivian and Betty a half vote each. (And not for the first time...)**_

4. Finally you mentioned a woman in blue, who's that? I can't place it.

_**Hmmmm, I assume you're talking about the alien scout/assassin from Uptopia. Her normal coloring (when not in camouflage mode) is sky blue skin and white hair and when she is using technology to mask her alien appearance, she looks like the Swedish student we briefly glimpsed in the episode where he moved to Norway (she was a hottie-not that Ron noticed). Of course, Electronique has bluish skin, too. R~13**_

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><p><em>zafnak chapter 45 . 23/15_

The Judge...he reminds me of Order of the duo Law and Order, from the old Freedom Force computer game.

_**Wow. I had to Google your reference: I wasn't familiar with the game or the characters. The pairing does look very similar though the back story and the costumes do vary somewhat. Nan wears a white, Greek-style gown just like the statues of Themis, the Greek goddess of Blind Justice. In addition to the sword, she also has the joined balance scales that we will see her use as a weapon sometime soon. And the "blindfold" she wears is actually a mask with eyeholes cut out so she can see. Haven't described that yet either because she hasn't been "front and center" in any of their brief appearances, so far. Oh, and, as you know, The Judge dresses like a judge from the traditional British courtrooms. No blue spandex here.**_

Camille Leone keeping the Ron Clones.. satisfied? Docile? Loyal to GJ? Anyway, ishe's a good shapeshifter, but she's going to screw up sooner or later.

_**Oh yeah!**_

Attack of the Zombie Cheerleader! And no Lotus Blade because Ron Prime imbued with MMP isn't the one calling for it I'll bet.

_**You nailed it!**_

As to who should get the Ron Clones .. if they stick around long enough...

_**Good question. Uberscribbler has already raised the question as to the viability and life-span of these clones. Will they dissolve into puddles of goo after a couple of weeks? Stay tuned...**_

Kim should get one. There. I said it. Current Kim and Ron are so not right for each other anymore. Give her a Ron from before things went haywire and maybe she could get past a few things herself.. once she recovers from her current status.

_**Who said she's going to recover from her current status? :-)**_

Vivian should get one too. She wants Ron, Ron won't break "The Rules". But a younger Ron Clone? That might just fit the bill.

_**The "Rules" that Ron was muttering about are The Rules he was quoting to Kim back in "Grudge Match," i.e. girls who looked like Vivian Porter didn't hook up with guys who weren't hotties...**_

And lastly..Well Ron might not ever go for Dede in a relationship, but a Ron Clone might just be up for that...

_**The Ron-man...er...Ron-men...are up for anything, Dude! R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 45 . 25/15_

"Some say he naturally faces magnetic north, and all his legs are hydraulic. All we know is he's called the Stig."  
>You know, there must be something wrong with the website if it's allowing me to post these replies without a name. Oh goody, Team Impossible. Who's next Falsetto Jones? Angel Martin? Oops wrong show. Wow, didn't read the chapter and I correctly guessed it.<p>

_**Well, as I said at the beginning of this tale, most if not all of the characters in the KP Universe would either appear or be referenced before we were done. And Falsetto Jones also had a brief appearance and a line of dialogue back in RSVP I, as well.**_

How about Coven, Harem and few others that I could name but aren't appropriate here. Occam's Razor. Wow never thought I'd see this outside of the Big Bang Theory or the Beatles. (?) Drat. Not the Beatles. World's supply of nacos? Seriously? The man invented the naco. That seems a little stupid of Ron to go that route. Lemme guess Heero Yuy was behind the door.

_**Occam's Razor...when Gillete's just won't do. I never understood the Zorpox/world's supply of Nacos, either. Blame the episode "Bad Boy" where they put it in cannon.**_

You wanna run that by me one more time about who Falsetto Jones encountered on the plane. Read it 10 times, and still did not get it. Will Du has a girlfriend? That's just wrong/sick.

_**Foxy, you might want to back up and reread a number of chapters. The Judge and Lady Justice have already appeared once. And they're a rejuvinated Timothy North and Nan Possible (also shown) but ya gotta connect the dots. Likewise Will Du & Camille Leon. This is the problem with serial novels where you might read a chapter every 2 to 6 weeks. The previous stuff starts to fade from the memory. Especially if you're reading other KP fan fiction in the meantime.**_

Well gotta make a tree and leave.

_**And I gotta make like a banana and split; make like a mule train and haul ass; make like a...never mind. Ciao, R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow chapter 45 . 25/15_

I'm still around, got caught up with the last chapter.

_**Odd! I'm so happy to hear from a former reviewer. I love my Constants but I tend to obsess over the readers I haven't heard from in awhile. Are they still reading? Did they lose interest? Are they bored? Did I make them mad? Deceased. Turned to the Dark Side (KIGO)? Abducted by aliens? Seriously, man: it cheers me up to know that you're still reading so I'm staying up and committing myself to producing a whole page for the next chapter before I allow myself some much needed sleep! **_

I personally find the GJ experiment with the Ron clones to be rather interesting. I'm torn on who should end up with Ron and each clone:  
>-Shego doesn't like to share (with the possible exception of Yori, especially with baby around), but also has issues with clones. Definitely some interesting interactions to explore there, no matter the final result.<p>

_**Good points! Expect some more Shego development next chapter...**_

-Tara is perfectly happy to share, but also strikes me as not having any issues with clones. At this point, I feel like she should be a lock to end up with a Ron, if not the Ron. I'm also still a fan of Bonnie joining her in that aspect, as the two best friends really work well together.

_**Look for a pivotal Tara/Bonnie scene in the next chapter!**_

Yori and Ron got married and were about to have their first child when tragedy struck. Despite that Ron being incomplete due to willfully losing his memories of Kim, that relationship is still his (and HER) strongest to date. Based on the continued devotion on both sides, I feel like Yori should end up with the original Ron, assuming she completes her recovery. I'm uncertain how she Would handle the possibility of sharing, but feel like she would be the only one with whom every other girl would be willing to share.

_**We'll see Yori's place in these tangled relationships move front and center very soon!**_

Kim is tough to place. She had the original relationship that failed when she couldn't bring herself to try and talk to her boyfriend and clear up the (admittedly extreme) misunderstanding. I feel like that stubbornness and egocentricity is going to work against her when it comes to Ron. If (and it's a big IF) she's not too proud to be with a clone, a Ron clone would make a good fit, as he wouldn't have as close an association with everything that's happened since chapter one.

_**Ah, Kim...or Dark Kim as we know her now. How IS she going to shake out? The answers may be a little longer in unfolding. On the other hand...no, no, I can't tell you that, yet (though some of you have already guessed via PM).**_

I'm kinda leaning toward Joss getting a clone; I feel like she'd appreciate one as much or more than anyone else.

_**Ah, Jossie: she may have been dialed back to seventeen but her story isn't done, yet...**_

Electronique (I'm a sucker for accents and unusual skin tone) and Amelia are the last two girls that stick out to me, and I feel like they would also be content with a clone.

_**I've been neglecting Electronique and need to do something about that soon. And we'll be catching up with Amelia and poor Big Daddy Brotherson as the Zombie Apocalypse begins to unfold.**_

Eagerly awaiting the next chapter,  
>Avof<p>

_**Me, too! R~13**_

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><p><em>DKFF chapter 45 . 28/15_

No more warnings should be needed.

_**Well, I would hope so by now. But people are funny and when a number of chapters go by where no one dies or gets naked or discusses politics, readers get lulled into a false sense of security and someone always gets their panties in a bunch that they weren't warned that something was going to change the story for them. Hey, I've gotten death threats if I let anything bad happen to Mrs. Dr. P. So, I'm really happy for your vote of confidence and will add it to tally. R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 45 . 28/15_

Actually I don't really accept a lot of Season 4 as being cannon, unless Frank Cannon's in it.

_**A Quinn-Martin Production! Ah, the dulcet tones of William Conrad as he barked things like: "Fresh air?...When I get through with you, the only fresh air you're gonna get will be in an exercise yard." Did you know that Conrad was the voice of Marshall Dillon back when Gunsmoke was a radio series? Man, I am old! (Well, I'm not that old but I do remember the TV show, first-run, and that piece of trivia from my ill-spent childhood.**_

Anyways, I don't really accept it as there were some things in the show that went against what went on in the previous seasons. I can't say what. Oh, but I do have a hard time acknowledging "So the Drama" as cannon due the fact that Drakken pulled off a good plan as opposed to what he did normally in the series. BTW: I know it didn't end well etc. but its semantics. Tim North, and Nan Possible, well that makes sense, except the way I read it, it sounded like it was one person not two.

_**Well, any time my readers can point to a place where I am (unknowingly) unclear or giving readers the wrong impression (by accident), I'll happily go back and fix it. I do love to tinker. I promise not to go back and rewrite all of the chapters! For now...**_

Actually, it's not so much the forgetting, it's that sometimes things don't exactly stick out the first time I read it. But still, Will and Camille? That's just wrong. Camille should've gone with Casa-No-Duh or Stop Ronnable. Dark Kim? How about Darth Kim, ha-ha.

_**I can just imagine that, behind closed doors, Camille morphs into Betty Director and screams: "Oh yes, Will! You're my Number One! File your report! File it now!" Man would be a fool to not date that...**_

_**As for "Darth" Kim? Sorry Fox-man: we played around with that nickname during the after-chapter reviews section many moons ago. But expect it to pop back up when Kim...um...does something...that I'm not ready to reveal, yet... R~13**_

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><p><em>Sentinel103 chapter 45 . 28/15_

I'll send you a PM about something that just crossed my mind Rippy, but I can see at the moment that a lot of Ron's friends have been planted in the ground. All that mayhem coming from others (except me of course) sets off warning bells in my deranged little mind.

_**You know how awful those Class Reunions can be! ;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>sparrowhawk63 chapter 45 . 29/15_

Man, where to begin?

First off, most of my reading of this epic is being done on the rather small screen of a smartphone. Being the fat-fingered ape that I am, reviews only happen when I get home on the weekends.

_**Man, that's what I do!**_

I think you have it right with warnings for the first one or two chaps of each part. After that, one should just strap in and enjoy the ride.

_**If "enjoy" is the proper word...**_

Well, let's get this out of the way. Two things I'd hoped you wouldn't use too much, clones...and zombies.

_**Aw, man: I suppose you're really not going to appreciate it when we get to the part with the Zombie Clones...**_

Personally, I've been zombiefied to distraction elsewhere, and I see no comedy or good coming from our friends becoming same. Still, very interested on what you have in mind, but I ask a favor. Shego resting against the headstone. Don't do it to her, man. Don't bring her former love back as a zombie. She doesn't deserve that. Hell, no one does.

_**Oh, man! I hadn't even considered that! Sometimes you readers are even more twisted than I am! But, don't worry: Danny has been in the ground too long.**_

_**I think...**_

Now, for the Fellowship of the "Rons". If you're really gonna keep 'em around, and not just find a way for them to disappear, it kinda depends. These supposedly are less mature versions of Ron, both physically and emotionally, correct? Would any of the girls want one? On the other hand, if the clones are physically similar to "The One", that solves a few things. Tara, yes, as she has crushed on Ron from the beginning. Joss, yes, for the same reasons. The other two can be passed around to the rest of the herd at will, don't care. To me, that leaves three to contend with.

_**Well, the clones may want a say in these arrangements...or maybe they would just say: Booyah!**_

Kim. Have her take a long walk off a short pier with a lead anchor around her neck. After her mouthing off to her mother that way, any hope or desire for her redemption is gone. Pin her as the enemy and prepare for combat. If you truly have a plan to bring her back from the abyss, it will HAVE to be epic.

_**Epic? (cracks knuckles) We're past 500,000 words now and Part III hasn't begun yet. And the plan for Part III has always been for it to be EPIC!**_

_**I hope.**_

Bonnie. This little girl, lost, needs a strong but compassionate hand to bring out her full potential. Her preparing the seudat havra'a for Ron had me thinking one thing after the scene...Wife. It could work, and work well. But there is one who comes first .

_**Check back with me after I shuffled the deck...**_

Shego/Sheila. You sealed it with her dream back in Chap 15. The home, the children, the Love. Through everything that has happened in this tale, I can picture that scene in my mind's eye with crystal clarity. I would want that for her. And only Ron, the REAL Ron, will do.

_**Hang on, things are going to start ramping up over the next several chapters!**_

Keep on keeping on...

Sparrowhawk63

_**Thanks! R~13**_


	46. Zombie Mayhem

**Authors/Notes: ****_I've tried to be nice: patiently waiting for the Lurkers to de-cloak and leave a review. Obviously, being nice has not been fully effective…so it's time to open a can of whoopass and power up the Omega Weapon: activate…THE EVIL CLIFFHANGER!_**

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><p><strong>Required Disclaimer:<strong> Kim Possible and all Related Characters are © Disney, Bob Schooley & Mark McCorkle. Main Plot and numerous detours are products of my own psychosis.

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><p><strong>Chapter 46 – Zombie Mayhem<strong>

_Well, that's interesting_, ZRon thought as the seconds ticked by and his outstretched hand remained empty. _I can tap some of the MMP for certain little influential tasks but the magic katana doesn't seem to recognize me as The Big Kahuna._

He began to move, scanning the ground for any sticks or rocks that might serve as a weapon as he headed toward the emerging Zombie Liz.

Unfortunately, the cemetery was maintained by dedicated groundskeepers and the well mowed grass was devoid of even a single fallen leaf, much less anything capable of poking an eye out.

The girls around their deceased cheer-mate's grave were starting to scatter, now. Wade Load was doing his best to make a run for the limos with Monique urging him on from behind. While both had largely recovered from their wounds, they were still moving slower than the other cheerleaders.

Save one.

Tara's wheelchair would not have moved fast enough on paved and level ground. As manicured as the grassy knoll seemed, it wasn't wheelchair friendly and Bonnie was hard pressed to push it any faster than a leisurely stroll. None of the other girls seemed to notice their dilemma as they were focused on their own escape.

Tara tried to help push on her wheel rims but it just made things awkward and uncoordinated, slowing them down so the burden fell on Bonnie.

"Bon Bon," the blonde told her former friend, "if that—that—thing—gets too close, you need to run!"

"And leave you behind?" the snarky brunette grunted. "Oh, hells no!" She twisted about and put her back against the back of Tara's chair to push it up and over a particularly rough patch. It also gave her an unfettered view of Liz turning her milky white eyes in her direction. The bravado in her next words didn't match the abject terror she abruptly felt. "Listen, T; I'm betting I can take her!"

"Bonnie!"

"Seriously, T! Bitch's head probably not sewn back on all that tight...maybe I can…"

The chair was suddenly hung up on an exposed tree root and Bonnie fell to the ground.

"Bonnie!"

Bonnie shook her head which was still ringing a little from its impact with the ground. "I'm good, I'm good…" she mumbled. She got shakily to her feet and tried to push again but it was no use.

Running around to the front of the wheelchair, she grabbed Tara's hands and dragged her to her feet. Trying to hold her up as she twisted her torso, she commanded: "Get on my back!"

Tara gaped. "Piggy-back?"

"I don't have time to slap you silly right now but I swear to God, Tara, call me a 'piggy' one more time and I might change my mind. Now grab my damn neck and hold on!"

The blonde still didn't have enough strength in her legs to wrap them around Bonnie's waist. Instead, her body draped down the brunette's back and her toes scraped the top of the grass as Bonnie staggered on toward the cars.

"It's okay if you drop me," she whimpered in Bonnie's ear.

"Why the hell would you say such a thing?" she gritted back.

"No point in both of us dying," Tara whimpered. "And I'm already broken…"

"You're…not…broken…" her friend puffed. "You are…a…whiney…baby…though…and I'm…gonna…spank you…when we…get back…warehouse…"

Tara giggled a little. "I love you, Bonnie…"

"Ditto, Tarebear…but…listen. If Liz…starts to…catch up…gotta turn…around and…fight. You need…to crawl…fast as…you can…"

Tara shook her head. "I'm not leaving you."

Bonnie shook her head right back. Her vision seemed to swim for a moment. "Gotta…have room to…maneuver. No…distractions. Get me…killed if…you stay. Promise…"

"I'll think about it…"

Meanwhile, ZRon was running on an interception course that would have him pass between Bonnie and Tara, and Wade and Monique.

The problem was Undead Liz could probably reach either before he could! _This was so not good!_

The corpse of the redheaded girl was finally free of the clotted earth and starting toward the nearest prey available to her.

But it wasn't any of the four that he had been worrying about up till now.

Crystal was making hesitant, tiny steps toward her former friend. "H-hey, Liz," she was saying in a soft, placating voice. "I-I guess you're wondering w-what's going on…"

Liz's only response was a growl.

"I-I know you've been through a lot," the honey-hued girl continued, "and it all must be really upsetting…"

The living corpse's fingers curled into hook-like claws and she took a step in Crystal's direction.

"We're your friends, L. Remember? Mad Dogs forever?"

The thing that had once been a fellow Mad Dog growled softly and took another step toward Crystal.

"Talk to me, Liz…" Now Crystal was taking a step back.

ZRon passed Bonnie, Tara, Wade, and Monique but saw that he wasn't going to arrive in time. "Crystal! Run!"

In a perfect world his shout would have distracted the zombie and given its prey that much extra time to run.

But ZRon knew that the world wasn't perfect, having experienced a very dark year leading up to this awful moment. He watched in horror as time seemed to slow down and the filthy, flesh-eating revenant crouched.

Then, as if her muscle memory wasn't quite dead and completely erased, she leapt up and came down on her former friend and classmate as if she were only so much raw meat to be ripped apart and gobbled down.

Just like her cheerleader moves of old, Liz propelled herself through the air and then suddenly executed a complete backflip before dropping like a loose and untidy bundle at Crystal's feet.

He got there just moments later. It still would have been too late to have saved the tawny cheerleader if her attacker had not suddenly and inexplicably died (again), stopping just short of taking another cheerleader to an early grave.

Crystal burst into tears as he extended his foot and rolled the body over.

The high-collared dress was slightly askew so that the Frankenstein-like stitching around the redhead's neck was partially revealed. More shocking, however, was the round, red hole in the center of her forehead.

Elizabeth Director arrive a moment later with the explanation: a smoking, silenced automatic in her left hand.

He looked at her in surprise and disbelief. "You brought a gun to a memorial service?"

She looked back at him with a degree of mild surprise, herself. "Why wouldn't I? The world is a dangerous place even if you aren't an agent of Global Justice. And, since I resigned, we've had rogue sythodrones, robots, robot-killers, undead simian armies, evil ninjas, and now nine-foot tall, hostile aliens." She shook her head. "The question is: why isn't everyone carrying?"

"Well, Felix and I sure as hell are," Jim Possible announced as he walked up to join them. He opened his jacket to display a homemade shoulder holster cradling a wicked looking ray-gun. "The next time those green bastards show up I'm going to make them regret they ever disintegrated my brother!"

Those sentiments only seemed to make Crystal cry that much harder but she managed to gesture at the remains of her friend and choke out: "What do we do now?"

ZRon looked at all of them and went into analytical mode. Reaching for his cell phone, he said: "We call Officer Hobble. In the meantime, we round everybody else up and get them back to the warehouse, pronto. This…" he looked down at the undead-now-dead-again cheerleader. "May not be an isolated incident. If someone caused this, we don't know that they won't try again." He looked up. "And we're in the middle of a freaking cemetery!"

And that's when the screaming started again.

**RSVP**

"Hey, Danny…"

Shego sat down on the ground, facing the tombstone of her former…lover? They had never actually made love—if they had, he might have died that much sooner, though they didn't know it back then. Still, "crush" seemed so inadequate a term and they were never officially "boyfriend and girlfriend." Nevertheless, the feelings had been there and something more would have come from it if they had had more time.

And he hadn't died from the rapid cancers that bloomed in his body due to the prolonged exposures to her background radiation.

She was only beginning to understand how her guilt had shaped who she was and everything that came after.

"I don't have much time," she continued. "We came back for the Possible kid's memorial service and everyone will be leaving soon." She looked up at the sky. "I'm back on the clock. Head of Security, again. For now." She looked back down at the granite marker with his name etched into the hard, unfeeling stone.

"I'm doing it for the 'paycheck' this time. A baby. It's…" She dropped her gaze into her lap. "…something I thought that I could never have. Until now." She was quiet for a long moment. Then she looked back up at the monument. "Of course, there's no guarantees. If I've learned anything from life, so far, it's that there's no such thing as a sure thing." She chuckled sadly. "Thank Dr. Drakken for that one."

She sighed. "There's no romance involved. I think I'm pretty clear on that by now. In fact, I'm sort of committing blackmail…" She shook her head. "Not blackmail. But I am strong-arming Stoppable—or at least this practical version of him—to donate some mystical magical sperm that has a chance of surviving my love tunnel and providing the genetic material for my eggs to be able to conceive. And survive." She chuckled mirthlessly. "Ain't that romantic sounding? I'm making this guy make love to me so I can have a shot at getting preggers. How fucked up is that?"

If there was any answer forthcoming from Danny's grave, it was lost as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

There was just a whisper of sound but a car seemed to have materialized on the lane near her friend's resting place.

A tinted window slid down and Motor Ed's face appeared.

"Shego, babe; I brought you your car."

**RSVP**

Adrena Lynn had stood at the back of the assemblage and a little apart…

Okay, be honest: a lot apart.

The only real reason she had come along was that powerful vibe that no one really trusted her to stay behind with practically no one to keep an eye on her.

Fine.

She understood.

Like she had told Blond'N'Lame: she was bad.

Certainly had been.

Hadn't started out that way but that's where she had ended up.

Extreme sports. Then extreme stunts. The quintessential adrenaline junkie.

Her parents might have given her that first name as a joke. They probably never expected it to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The cheating thing seemed so harmless at the time but, just like extreme snowboarding, it was a slippery slope.

It had started with getting the best camera angles, making the stunts look better and better.

Then a little trickery with the editing to appear more awesome than in real time.

Before she knew it, the network was pressuring her to fake things so they could get higher ratings.

When that Possible chick stuck her nose in, she had panicked. What had she been thinking to add Assault charges to her public humiliation for false celebrity? Especially when all of "Reality" TV was faked these days?

Bi-polar Disorder, the prison docs explained. Got her on the right meds. Even got her out early for good behavior.

They shouldn't have bothered.

Even though she was a different person now (mostly), no one wanted to give her a chance. No one would hire her.

When that crazy Mastermind person had reached out to her, she was starving and sleeping in the park. She didn't see how she had any choice.

For a brief moment she had thought that things were looking up when Kim Possible became the new Mastermind…but that chick was even more messed up than the original! At times she seemed like the same old Teen Heroine who had taken her down originally.

And, at others, it was as if she were possessed by a dark, malevolent entity!

Adrena shivered. Even now, watching her snark at her mother, gave her the creeps. She needed to tell Blondie to steer clear of her old friend.

Now that the memorial service was over she had put a little more distance between herself and the rest of the group.

After all, she would be moving on soon.

No real reason to hang around.

She could only mooch so long before the Welcome Mat would be withdrawn and Stoppable started really thinking about their first, original encounter.

Speaking of the guy-who-could-have-any-woman-he-wanted-and-didn't-know-what-to-do-about-it, he was standing apart, too. She watched him watch the others. Like a tall blond sheepdog watching the flock to protect them from the big bad wolves. And the woman who was supposed to protect him? Where was she?

Lynn looked around and finally spotted her some distance away. She was walking toward a nice looking car parked behind some tombstones. And who was that in the driver's seat?

Motor Ed?

She knew she shouldn't smile. Not right after a memorial service where people might see her and get the wrong idea. Well, maybe the right idea, after all, but still not a good idea.

Except…it was Motor Ed. Here to see Shego. And now she was getting into the car with him!

_Oh, the doors of possibilities that were suddenly opening before her!_

And that was when the first round of screaming began.

**RSVP**

"See, Babe? With the windows rolled up it's absolutely quiet inside! Not much louder on the outside: I got sound baffles and noise suppressors built in all over!"

Shego leaned back against the cushioned passenger seat with her arms folded against her chest. "I'm gonna ask one more time, Ed: what are you doing here?"

"Bringin' your car, babe! Isn't it autolicious?" He arched his back as best he could in the close confines of the driver's seat and screeched, "Yeeaaaaahh!" while playing some awesome air-guitar.

"My car?" she asked with an expression somewhere between boredom and annoyance. "I didn't order a car."

"Sure ya did, Babetron."

"No I didn't. And don't call me that."

"Sure thing, Hot Mama. But ya did, ya know."

"No. I don't know. And don't call me that, either."

"Ya came to me in my sleep, green dream! And ya whispered to me: 'Eddie, My Love, I want for youse to build me a car…'"

"So now it's a dream?" Shego rolled her eyes. "Too much spicy food before bedtime, Motor-mouth. And, FYI? I would never call you Eddie OR My Love!"

"But ya did, sweetcheeks! You even gave me a list of everything ya wanted included in the design!" And he proceeded to either demonstrate or explain the various upgrades, improvements, and special systems he had built in.

At first, Shego was inclined to jump back out of the car and send him on his way with a few plasma-blisters on his paint job. Then she reconsidered. Ron needed a vehicle and this was a security chief's wet dream.

Minus the mullethead, of course.

She eyed the keys in the ignition and spoke when he had finally wound down. "So, when do I get to sit behind the wheel and take it for a test drive?"

"How about now, my favorite rave-babe?"

She tightened her hands into fists and a few wisps of steam escaped but she smiled sweetly. "Sounds great! Chinese fire-drill?"

"Sure thing, doll-face!" Opening the driver's door he hopped out and ran around the car to open the passenger door for her.

Instead, Shego locked her door and slid over to the driver's side, shifted gears, and put the pedal to the metal: the driver's door closed itself. Ed rapidly diminished in the rearview mirror.

She did not notice the chaos unfolding among the tombstones until it was too late.

**RSVP**

Betty Director and Jim Possible were not the only ones packing heat today.

The moment the screaming had erupted over at Liz's grave, Felix had thrust his hand inside his jacket and closed his fingers around the grip of a Mark XIX Desert Eagle loaded with seven .50 Action Express rounds.

But he was too far away for any accuracy and he knew that the first shot would likely tip him over backwards and then he would be no damn good to anybody not to mention helpless.

Betty had been pushing his wheelchair but now she was moving past him, running toward the disturbance with her gun drawn. Releasing the stock, he grabbed the rims of the un-motorized wheelchair and attempted to follow her on his own.

He didn't get far.

The dip in the grass was steeper than it appeared and sheered off at an unexpected angle. Before he could course-correct he was sliding sideways and then tipping past the point of no-return before he could shift his center of gravity.

The fall seemed to unfold in slow-motion and then sped up again at the last second as he hit the ground and felt the wind knocked out of him.

He turned as he fell and could tell by the way his hips were twisted that his legs were tangled in the overturned chair. At least he wasn't feeling any discomfort there. The gun, however, was painfully jammed up in his side and armpit. And his pride and dignity had just taken a major bruising, as well.

He lay there a moment, getting his wind back and making sure that he hadn't really hurt. Then considered how he might disentangle himself, right the chair, and get back in without a lot of unnecessary and embarrassing "flopping about."

His head seemed to spin a bit—or was the ground really moving over there?

It took him a moment to realize that he was looking at his girlfriend's grave.

Unable to look away, now, he stared in helpless horror and felt his mind snap in two as a whitened hand thrust its way out of the ground. On one side, he was thinking: _Oh dear God! Justine! You aren't really gone!_

While the other half of his brain was going: _Zombie! Frickin' undead! Thousands of hours of mastering Zombie Mayhem pays off: I know just what to do!_

He reached for the Desert Eagle and found the handgun and holster were just as tangled as his lifeless legs in the toppled wheelchair.

As Justine's head shook its way free of her burial mound, he began to struggle violently. Unfortunately, his mind was suddenly clouded by fear and horror so he squirmed ineffectively at both tasks, accomplishing neither.

**RSVP**

Yoshi sat in the back of one of the limousines and waited for the others to join her now that the service was over. Hana had gotten a little fussy toward the end and so the Asian bodyguard/_au pair_ had returned to the vehicle and had the driver raise the windows and the back seat partition, turn up the music and the air conditioner, and worked to distract and sooth her restless little charge. Through the tinted glass she could see only one other arrival, so far.

Electronique.

She frowned in consternation. _What was Ron thinking? The woman was a criminal and a super-powered one, at that!_

_Electronique had no place in this group! Allowing her to…to hang around was only inviting trouble! _

This was Yoshi's well thought-out and unbiased opinion—having absolutely nothing to do with that time the she got sucker-punched by Electronique's electrical powers…

She looked back down at her restless charge and so, did not see two rotting corpses come around the car and fall on the woman in question.

**RSVP**

_In a perfect world,_ Adrena was thinking, _I rush in and save the rich guy/planetary hero thereby earning his gratitude and maybe something more…_

The former action/extreme sports star hurled herself into a sideways body-slam that knocked the slavering, undead thing off its next move which was to take a bite out of the boy on the ground.

_But it's not Stoppable,_ she inwardly groused as she fell to the ground with a less than ladylike landing. _It's one of his friends who doesn't have to good sense to use that gun he's trying to hold on to or at least try to crawl away!_

_You'd think the dead bitch was his girlfriend or something…_

Adrena sprang to her feet and noticed that her opponent was moving pretty good for a dead girl…and one that had been kicked pretty hard just a moment ago.

She jerked her head, cracking her neck, and pulled on a pair of fingerless, leather gloves that she had tucked in her pocket. _Well, the crip is probably on of Stoppable's friends so that should earn me brownie points with him._

The zombie eyed the boy on the ground and then turned its full attention to Adrena Lynn: it crouched and began to move.

_But is that enough incentive to risk getting eaten?_ She shook her head and adopted a fighting stance. _Not going to win any favors by standing back and just letting the kid die… _

**RSVP**

When Stoppable had tasked Big Mike and him to shadow Kim Possible, Brick had found the assignment odd in a couple of ways.

First, of all of the people in the cemetery, today—or anywhere on any day for that matter—he would have figured that the famous Teen Heroine was the least in need of watching over.

And secondly, he thought that he would be taking point position. Apparently Stopps thought Big Mike had done some kind of bonding with Possible in Detention, though so Brick was relegated to flanking the duo.

Or trio as their assignment was sticking pretty close to her mother.

Maybe "pretty" wasn't the word.

What Brick was able to overhear of their conversations made him glad that he'd been positioned at a greater distance.

Man, what was wrong with that girl? He was starting to suspect that Stopps wasn't as interested in them "watching over" her as they needed to be "watching out" for her and maybe getting in between her and anyone else in their little family.

He was thinking how much he'd rather face the Lowerton defensive line than square off against the petite redhead when he noticed a couple of guys staggering toward the Possible women.

Great! he thought, people come to a cemetery to grieve and be alone with their thoughts or be comforted by family friends. Not a couple of strangers who've had too much to drink.

He sidled up to Big Mike and murmured, "I'll deal with the party crashers, Bro. Hang tight."

The blonde quarterback squared his impressive shoulders and started toward the unsteady visitors with little concern for going solo: these guys were obviously so drunk that they care hardly walk!

How hard could it be?

**RSVP**

First, she was distracted by the question of where she should be.

Everyone eyed her with suspicion. Hey she was a freak AND a former super villain: no surprise there!

And a stranger to all but three.

Three people she had fought and tried to turn evil in the past!

One of them she was developing feelings for!

And it looked like she would have to fight the other two if she were ever going to act on her feelings!

In the meantime, she had tagged along to try to fit in with the group.

What a disaster that was turning out to be.

She didn't know any of the people that they were here to pay their respects to.

Anytime she drifted close to Ron, the tension among the other women went up noticeably.

And now, walking back to the limo to wait for the others, she saw that former GJ agent/bodyguard/nanny (whose room was adjacent to Ron's!) sitting in the back of the car she had come in.

Elle was pretty sure that someone had told her that she was the one that had "tazed" her when the Asian woman was acting all crazy-like and pretending to be Ron's poor dead wife.

So…waiting outside until others arrived to act as a buffer.

Looking down at the ground, she had assumed that the soft sounds of someone approaching meant that the others were coming to get into the cars. That assumption was finally challenged when the stink of rot, sour earth, and formaldehyde washed over her like a wave of corruption.

She was knocked to the ground before she could get a good look at her attackers but her instincts took over and they were knocked off of her by a body-wide electro-burst that lit up the surrounding area like a herd of paparazzi taking flash pictures.

Behind the tinted windows, Yoshi had closed her eyes and sighed, waiting for the other woman to dare to open the car door and face her.

Dazed by the unexpected assault, the stench of something a long time dead, and the surprise that the woman in the car wasn't doing anything to help her, Elle took a few precious seconds to make sure that her two assailants were a few feet away and not yet moving.

She didn't see the two others under the car until it was too late.

**RSVP**

"Hey guys," Brick was saying as he closed the distance with the two strangers. "We're just finishing up a memorial service for a friend. Can you maybe relocate to another part of the…"

Someone screamed…

Several someones!

There was something wrong with these guys but it barely registered as his attention was jerked in the direction of where Liz had been buried just days before!

Somewhere, at the back of his confused thoughts, was the question of this sudden, awful stench…

**RSVP**

As Bonnie forced one foot in front of the other, dragging an increasingly heavy Tara King up the hill toward the cars, she was vaguely aware of a fresh round of screaming.

_Any minute,_ she thought through the strain; _any minute she would feel that cold hand close around her ankle._

Next?

_Implacable teeth sinking into the meat of her leg…a big, scoop-sized hole out of her calf…or locked into the back of her thigh until it dragged her down for a more leisurely feast!_

"Tara…how…far…back?" she puffed, not really wanting to know.

Tara's head was buried in the brunette's neck but she raised it reluctantly and tried to look back. "I don't see any…one…"

"You…sure…?"

"No…"

"Dammit," she whispered. "Gonna turn around…slow. Hang on…"

Bonnie staggered around a bit and then staggered. Tara slipped down from her shoulders and then they both collapsed in sitting positions on the grass.

Down below them was an incredible panorama in three tableaus.

Liz had not followed them. She was down on the ground, now, with Ron, Betty, and Jim Possible standing over the body. Crystal stood a couple of feet away, weeping.

Hope and Marcella had fled toward Kim and Mrs. Possible but were staggering to a stop as they stared beyond them at the area between the graves of Justine Flanner and Mrs. Renton. Felix's wheelchair had overturned and there seemed to be some kind of commotion as that Lynn woman jumped over the chair and hit something as she fell to the ground.

There seemed to be another struggle going on beyond another couple of rows of tombstones and, off in the distance, someone was screaming: "Not the hair, dudes! Seriously, what is your damage!"

"I've got to…go back," Bonnie whispered. "I've got to…help!"

Tara nodded and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Go! I'll be all right!"

Bonnie shook her head. "I've got to…get you to…one of the…cars, first." She looked back up the hill to where sanctuary was supposed to lie.

And she screamed.

A line of shambling corpses were strung out between them and the limos.

And they were coming straight for them!

**RSVP**

There was a thump.

Then a second.

Followed by a series of impacts that caused the whole vehicle to shudder.

Yoshi hit the power button on the window. "You want to do this now?" she growled at Electronique. "Or wait until…"

But it wasn't Electronique outside the window.

It was something straight out of the blackest pits of Yomi-no-kuni!

And, as the car began to rock, the foul creature hissed and began to climb in through the window!

Yoshi hit the power button but the window couldn't close as the Oni was already squeezing through the tightening aperture.

Then the car tipped over on its side and began to roll over and over, flinging undead bodies about like a demented sprinkler, until it crashed, upside down, against a pair of trees.

As Yoshi blacked out she could hear Hana screaming, the smacking of long dead hands against the windows and door panels, and a hideous, wet hissing near her ear…

**RSVP**

Felix stared as Adrena Lynn pummeled his dead girlfriend. Who kept getting up for more, snarling and snapping with teeth than make a loud "clack" as they snapped shut just short of taking a chunk of flesh out of the athletic woman's swinging arm or out-thrust leg.

Back and forth the battle went: Adrena was stronger, faster, but Justine just shrugged off the damage. The dead girl felt no pain and was tireless. The living one was growing unsteady and starting to slow.

He cursed himself for his inaction and fumbled again for his gun.

That's when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

He hadn't felt the hand upon his dead and useless leg.

He couldn't even tell if he'd been bitten.

But her mouth was bloody and all he could do was sob: "Mommy?"

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><p><strong>ABOUT THE TITLE:<strong>** Zombie Mayhem! Ron and Felix's favorite game. Until now.**

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><p><strong>AN 2: _Sorry to leave it here, folks but, given what's coming next, this seemed like the best place to stop. _**

_**For now.**_

_**No, this is not a "dream" sequence: it's really happening so don't even cling to that false hope.**_

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR CHAPTER 46<strong>

_CajunBear73 chapter 46 . 2/9/15_

Man this is going to really rattle those folks after this, whoever is left un-zombiefied, that is...

But I wonder who got this going and how it's stopped. And if Ron-Prime is going to return, he's really needed now.

CB73

_**As for who got "this" going? Major Ursula Minor and her "Plan 9" is responsible. We'll get back to the Lowardians shortly. As to how it's stopped? Um...I don't have that part figured out yet... R~13**_

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><p><em>Hero Knil chapter 46 . 210/15_

... I've been around awhile... And while I expected more undead (Cause Bate's can't be the only one with those skills), you have taken it in a way I honestly should'a expected. And yet I found myself shivering as you described everything. Only to burst out laughing moments later thanks to Ed. The perfect amount of comedic relief to stop an over active imagination.

_**Watch for our favorite mullet-head to reappear in "Return of the Evil Ed"! R~13**_

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><p><em>Virtus Paladin chapter 46 . 210/15_

Death death and more desth. it's bad enough that you're killing of some good characters but now you're killing them off twice?

_**Twice? Oh, I see: Liz. Well, technically Liz & Jessica were just presumed dead, then retrieved that moment in time just before the explosion so they didn't really die. The Tweebs were also presumed dead for a time but were actually rescued from Fukushima's ninjas and taken into hiding, so nobody has "died" twice. Yet. But, oboy, are you going to be mad at me soon... R~13**_

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><p>GabrielBlade chapter 46 . 210/15

Dude. Duuuuuuude! Unfair! Mega major uncoolness, leaving on such a cliffhanger. (Hey, how quick is zombification transmitted? If Felix loses the leg quick enough, is he a chance of surviving?)

_**Stay tuned for some of the answers...**_

Man oh man this is getting gorchier by the chapter, and I LOVE it!

_**I'm about to test your love. R~13**_

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><p><em>A very odd fellow chapter 46 . 210/15_

Made good time on this one, caught it in time to read before work. The suspense and sheer number of perspectives is mind-boggling (definitely in a good way). I don't know if this chapter should count as one cliffhanger, or a half dozen, but it certainly fulfilled your promise of one.  
>Eagerly anticipating the next one,<br>Avof

_**Well, reader response has lit a small fire under me so there may be some answers sooner than I anticipated! R~13**_

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><p><em>Ant Crown chapter 46 . 210/15_

*De-cloaks* I try to save judgement until AFTER the story is done all because I'm nice.

Congrats you forced my hand. YOUR PACING IS TOO SLOW!

Right now the story is messy and there needs to be an endgame soon.

I'm sorry

_**Gee, A.C., the only reason for you to be sorry is for not de-cloaking a long time ago and sharing your opinion. We might have avoided all these extra plots and sub-plots and sub-sub-plots and...well, there you go!**_

_**You're absolutely right: it has gotten out of hand and it's time to cut to (some of) the chase. I had some chapters in mind where Ron comforts some of the survivors after they escape...and even some hot zombie sex...but we'll axe all of that and move things along a little faster. **_

_**Seriously.**_

_**See what happens when you participate in the process instead of waiting until the very end? It really can be a collaborative process. Thanks for joining in and pushing me along! R~13**_

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><p><em>zafnak chapter 46 . 211/15_

Zombie Mayhem indeed! A wee bit different in real life, isn't it guys? If Felix doesn't snap out of it free that hand cannon, his mom is going to really chew him out! LOL.

**_You're a sick and twisted individual! I can't tell you how much I admire that! ;-)_**

Nice bit of heroism from Bonnie. Never leave a friend behind to be zombie chow! And it looks like she'll get to fight a couple of walking stiffs after all.

_**I count more than a couple...**_

All in all, I can see many bodies piling up. Hopefully, most of them will be the reanimated ones.

_**(Holds cards close to his vest while attempting unreadable poker face) R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 46 . 214/15_

"Some say that he lives in a tree, and that his sweat can be used to clean precious metals. All we know is he's called the Stig."

The Big Kuhuna? Does he live in Hawai'i or Surf City?  
>Zombie Mayhem, Stop Ronnable's favorite game, I think. Thank you for not referencing me at the top of the chapter. I skipped the Zombie stuff. In my opinion, to cliché. That would be true with a lot of stuff that I've read, but seeing as how people are obsessed with Zombies, I skip it, unless it's Colin, Paul Rod, Chris and Hugh then I don't.<p>

Q: What about Shego? Yoshi doesn't like Electronique because she's a villain. Does she dislike Shego and if not that seems hypocritical. As for William Conrad: How about that he was the narrator for "Rocky and Bullwinkle". And Darth Kim, that was supposed to have been a joke.

_**Well, I think there's always a little concern about the "competition" but, since Electronique zapped her into unconsciousness when she was possessed by Yori, I think it makes it a little more personal for her. Oooooo! I forget about R&B! And you may not think "Darth Kim" is so much a joke before the dust finally settles. ;-) R~13**_


	47. Epilogue

**Required Disclaimer:** Kim Possible and all Related Characters are © Disney, Bob Schooley & Mark McCorkle. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain…

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

Back on Senior Island, the doctor set aside the defibrillator paddles and turned off the telemetry montors.

The shrill alarm of the cardiac monitor fell silent.

Gently, he closed his young patient's eyes, once a vibrant, glowing blue…

…now ebony and as empty as the husk that lay so still upon the gurney.

_She never even had a chance to hold her child in her arms_, he thought.

Behind him, the nurse began to weep.

The doctor understood: it was always hard to lose a patient and now he had lost two in so short a time. Señor Senior, Senior and now Yori Stoppable. He had liked the old man-and not just because he had paid him well. And, even though the lovely Asian woman had never regained consciousness, there had been such a serene, happy spirit about her, a sense of deep contentment, as if her soul and her unborn child's spirit were together, communing, on another astral plane.

He shook off his reverie and rose to start the next and final phase of his obligations to his patient.

Even in death there are things that must be done before the doctor can sign off on the final piece of paper and remand her remains to the depths of the earth.

And Señor Senior, Senior had left very specific instructions-including the concern that his redheaded adopted daughter _not_ find Ms. Stoppable's body if the seemingly inevitable were to finally occur after he was gone.

Frankly, the doctor didn't want Kimberly Possible-Senior find him or his nurse here when she returned, either! So it was with a little haste that he told the nurse to pack up their tools, equipment, clothes, and any personal items while he saw the young mother to her final resting place.

It was odd, he mused. It was a quiet death, a gentle passing...

Not a soul knew the the young woman was gone.

But somehow, he thought, somewhere, when people find out...

This was going to turn inti a Big Deal

Maybe even a Really Big Deal!

_And he didn't want to be anywhere near any of this when it happened!_

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><p><strong>Author'sNotes: _Apparently I went too minimal with the original posting. Some readers assumed that the epilogue refers to Señor Senior, Senior passing. But the master of Senior Island went into suspended animation down in the subterranean vault beneath the clinic a few chapters back. I hope the new, next to the last sentence, clears things up..._**

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><p><strong>REVIEWS FOR THE TWO POWERS' EPILOGUE<strong>

_GabrielBlade chapter 47 . 2/11/15_

You bastard! You utter bastard! :P

_**Yes. R~13**_

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><p><em>CajunBear73 chapter 47 . 211/15_

And so ended the life of SSS...

But the way this one was going...

Maybe?

CB73

_**Sorry for the confusion, CB. Read it again now... R~13**_

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><p><em>Ant Crown chapter 47 . 211/15_

Dang. That was abruptly

_**Yes it wa**_

_**R~13**_

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><p><em>the Desert Fox chapter 47 . 214/15_

"Some say that his heart ticks like a watch, and that he's confused by stairs. All we know is he's called the Stig."

Now I could never be sure, but I thought that I heard the sound of "Taps" being played, gently for Senor Senior Senior. I lifted it from "A Christmas Story" thought it'd be fitting. RIP Mr. Senior.

_**Again, sorry for the confusion. SSS remains in suspended animation next to the other cryosleep chamber he originally built for his wife. I've added another sentence to the epilogue for greater clarity. GabrielBlade called it right away... R~13**_

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><p>Uberscribbler chapter 47 . 214/15

Well, that's going to complicate things.

I will repeat this caution once more: KP is going to feel super-duper-utterly-mortified-to-the-point-of-burning-out-her-skin-pigmentation-embarrassed when her personality gets straightened out, nearly as much as Ron is certain to once he slips up and lets spirit!Rufus restore his memories, that this little scene is gonna come back to haunt the both of them.

Maybe. And I only say that because the author is a demented genius who has flipped so many switches throughout this doorstop I've lost count (and any hope of following the thread without frequent re-reads)!

So...get on with it!

_**Demented Genius? Well, one out of two ain't bad... R~!3**_

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><p>C1B12 chapter 47 . 216/15

Wow! What an abrupt ending but glad to the third part up. Great story and enjoying the rollercoaster ride!

_**Thanks! Another chapter is coming in RSVP III and the ride gets crazier. R~13**_

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><p>the Desert Fox chapter 47 . 220/15_*****_

_***Yay! You posted on my birthday! **_

No Stig intro for repeats.

_**Yay again! (Maybe some Chuck Norris schtick, instead...)**_

I for one don't consider you a bathturd, er bastard.

**Just don't call me a bathtub. **

**Or late for dinner!**

So it was Yori? Is she dead or asleep?

**So much for subtlety: I've added a little more now: sounds pretty dead to me!**

I think Charlie Brown said it best "Oh good grief."

_**Grief? Yes! Good? Probably not...**_

Oh, and it might still be a little vague.

**Okay, I've reworked it some more. Better? R~13**

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><p><em>Sentinel103 chapter 47 . 222/15_

Well this clears up the waters a little...or does it?

_**Gee, I don't know: I've been saying that Mama Lipsky is dead for about 50 chapters now and you still don't believe me. Will anything really convince you? **_

_**;-) R~13**_

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><p><em>zafnak chapter 47 . 222/15_

Just how many death scene rewrites is Yori going to get? Maybe you should just throw away subtly and have the doctor say to the nurse "She's dead, Jim".

_**See Yori.**_

_**Oh. Oh. Oh.**_

_**See Yori die.**_

_**Die, Yori, die.**_

_**Oh. Oh. Oh.**_

_**Here comes Kim.**_

_**Run, doctor, run!**_

_**(Grin) How's that? R~13**_


End file.
